TALES  OF  AZTLAN 


..•        .    . 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT   LOS  ANGELES 


ROBERT  ERNEST  COWAN 


(Frontispiece.} 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  A  HERO  OF  OUR  LATE 
SPANISH-AMERICAN   WAR 

INCIDENTS    OF    INTEREST    FROM    THE    LIFE    OF    A 
WESTERN    PIONEER 

AND 

OTHER    TALES 

BY 

GEORGE    HARTMANN 


IUJ 


BROADWAY   PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

835     Broadway       .'.       New    York 


COPYRIGHT,  1908, 
By  GEORGE    HARTMANN 


Revised  Edition 


..• 


TS 


memorial 

That  this  volume  may  serve  to  Keep 
forever   fresh   the   memory 

of   a   hero, 

CAPTAIN  WILLIAM  OWEN  O'NEILL,  U.  S.  V., 
is   the   fervent   wish   of 


Hi 

The  Author. 


277217 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 
I     A  Frail  Bark  tossed  on  Life's  Tem 
pestuous  Sea 
II    A  Perilous  Journey  15 

III  The  Mystery  of   the   Smoking   Ruin. 

Stalking  a  Warrior.      The  Ambush.     32 

IV  A  Strange  Land  and  Stranger  People.     38 
V     On  the  Rio  Grande.     An  Abstract  of 

the  Author's  Genealogy  of  Maternal 

Lineage  49 

VI     Indian  Lore.     The  Wily  Navajo  56 
VII    The   Fight   in  the  Sand  Hills.       The 

Phantom  Dog  66 

VIII     With  the  Navajo  Tribe  94 

iX     In  Arizona  103 

X    At  the  Shrine  of  a  "Sphinx  of  Aztlan"  110 

An  Uncanny  Stone  126 

The  Birth  of  Arizona  136 

A  Royal  Fiasco  142 

A  Maid  of  Yavapai  160 


CHAPTER  I 

A  FRAIL  BARK,  TOSSED  ON  LIFE'S  TEMPESTUOUS 

SEAS 

A  NATIVE  of  Germany,  I  came  to  the  United 
States  soon  after  the  Civil  War,  a  healthy, 
strong  boy  of  fifteen  years.  My  destination  was 
a  village  on  the  Rio  Grande,  in  New  Mexico, 
where  I  had  relatives.  I  was  expected  to  ar 
rive  at  Junction  City,  in  the  State  of  Kansas,  on 
a  day  of  June,  1867,  and  proceed  on  my  jour 
ney  with  a  train  of  freight  wagons  over  the 
famous  old  Santa  Fe  trail. 

Junction  City  was  then  the  terminal  point 
of  a  railway  system  which  extended  its  track 
westward  across  the  great  American  plains,  over 
the  virgin  prairie,  the  native  haunt  of  the  buf 
falo  and  fleet-footed  antelope,  the  iron  horse 
trespassing  on  the  hunting  ground  of  the  Arapa- 
hoe  and  Comanche  Indian  tribes.  As  a  mer 
cantile  supply  depot  for  New  Mexico  and  Colo 
rado,  Junction  City  was  the  port  from  whence 
a  numerous  fleet  of  prairie  schooners  sailed, 
laden  with  the  necessities  and  luxuries  of  an  ad 
vancing  civilization.  But  not  every  sailor 


2  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

reached  his  destined  port,  for  many  were  they 
who  were  sent  by  the  pirates  of  the  plains  over 
unknown  trails,  to  the  shores  of  the  great  Be 
yond,  their  scalpless  bodies  left  on  the  prairie,  a 
prey  to  vultures  and  coyotes. 

If  the  plans  of  my  relatives  had  developed 
according  to  program,  this  story  would  prob 
ably  not  have  been  told.  Indians  on  the  war 
path  attacked  the  wagon  train  which  I  was  pre 
sumed  to  have  joined,  a  short  distance  out  from 
Junction  City.  They  killed  and  scalped  several 
teamsters  and  also  a  young  German  traveler; 
stampeded  and  drove  off  a  number  of  mules  and 
burned  up  several  wagons.  This  was  done  while 
fording  the  Arkansas  River,  near  Fort  Dodge. 
I  was  delayed  near  Kansas  City  under  circum 
stances  which  preclude  the  supposition  of  chance 
and  indicate  a  subtle  and  inexorably  fatal  power 
at  work  for  the  preservation  of  my  life — a  force 
which  with  the  giant  tread  of  the  earthquake 
devastates  countries  and  lays  cities  in  ruins ;  that 
awful  power  which  on  wings  of  the  cyclone  slays 
the  innocent  babe  in  its  cradle  and  harms  not 
the  villain,  or  vice  versa;  that  inscrutable  spirit 
which  creates  and  lovingly  shelters  the  sparrow 
over  night  and  then  at  dawn  hands  it  to  the  owl 
to  serve  him  for  his  breakfast.  Safe  I  was 


A  Frail  Bark  3 

under  the  guidance  of  the  same  loving,  paternal 
Providence  which  in  death  delivereth  the  inno 
cent  babe  from  evil  and  temptation,  shields  the 
little  sparrow  from  all  harm  forever,  and  in 
cidentally  provides  thereby  for  the  hungry  owl. 
I  should  have  changed  cars  at  Kansas  City, 
but  being  asleep  at  the  critical  time  and  over 
looked  by  the  conductor,  I  passed  on  to  a  station 
beyond  the  Missouri  River.  There  the  con 
ductor  aroused  me  and  put  me  off  the  train 
without  ceremony.  I  was  forced  to  return, 
and  reached  the  river  without  any  mishap, 
as  it  was  a  beautiful  moonlight  night.  I 
crossed  the  long  bridge  with  anxiety,  for 
it  was  a  primitive-looking  structure,  built  on 
piles,  and  I  had  to  step  from  tie  to  tie,  looking 
continually  down  at  the  swirling  waters  of  the 
great,  muddy  river.  As  I  realized  the  possibility 
of  meeting  a  train,  I  crossed  over  it,  running. 
At  last  I  reached  the  opposite  shore.  It  was 
nearly  dawn  now,  and  I  walked  to  the  only 
house  in  sight,  a  long,  low  building  of  logs  and, 
being  very  tired,  I  sat  down  on  the  veranda  and 
soon  fell  asleep.  It  was  not  long  after  sunrise 
that  a  sinister,  evil-looking  person,  smelling 
vilely  of  rum,  woke  me  up  roughly  and  asked 
me  what  I  did  there.  When  he  learned  that 


4  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

I  was  traveling  to  New  Mexico  and  had 
lost  my  way,  he  grew  very  polite  and  invited  me 
into  the  house. 

We  entered  a  spacious  hall,  which  served  as 
a  dining-room,  where  eight  young  ladies  were 
busily  engaged  arranging  tables  and  furniture. 
The  man  intimated  that  he  kept  a  hotel  and 
begged  the  young  ladies  to  see  to  my  comfort  and 
bade  me  consider  myself  as  being  at  home.  The 
girls  were  surprised  and  delighted  to  meet  me 
and  overwhelmed  me  with  questions.  They 
expressed  the  greatest  concern  and  interest  when 
they  learned  that  I  was  about  to  cross  the  plains. 

"Poor  little  Dutchy,"  said  one,  "how  could 
your  mother  send  you  out  all  alone  into  the 
cruel,  wide  world!"  "Mercy,  and  among  the 
Indians,  too,"  said  another.  When  I  replied 
that  my  dear  mother  had  sent  me  away  because 
she  loved  me  truly,  as  she  knew  that  I  had  a 
better  chance  to  prosper  in  the  United  States 
than  in  the  Fatherland,  they  called  me  a  cute 
little  chap  and  smothered  me  with  their  kisses. 

The  tallest  and  sweetest  of  these  girls  (her 
name  was  Rose)  pulled  my  ears  teasingly  and 
asked  if  her  big,  little  man  was  not  afraid  of 
the  Indians.  "Not  I,  madame,"  I  replied;  "for 
my  father  charged  me  to  be  honest  and  loyal, 


A  Frail  Bark  5 

brave  and  true,  and  fear  not  and  prove  myself 
a  worthy  scion  of  the  noble  House  of  Von 
Siebeneich."  "Oh,  my!  Oh,  my!"  cried  the 
young  ladies,  and  "Did  you  ever!"  and  "No, 
I  never!"  and  "Who  would  have  thought  it!" 
Regarding  me  wide-eyed  with  astonishment, 
they  listened  with  bated  breath  as  I  explained 
that  I  was  a  lineal  descendant  of  the  Knight 
Hartmann  von  Siebeneich,  who  achieved  ever 
lasting  fame  through  impersonating  the  Em 
peror  Frederick  (Barbarossa)  of  Germany,  in 
order  to  prevent  his  capture  by  the  enemy.  I 
told  how  the  commander  of  the  Italian  army, 
inspired  with  admiration  by  the  desperate  valor 
of  the  loyal  knight,  released  him  and  did  honor 
him  greatly.  And  how  this  noble  knight,  my 
father's  ancestor,  followed  the  Emperor  Fred 
erick  to  the  Holy  Land  and  fought  the  Saracens. 
"And,"  added  I,  "my  father's  great  book  of 
heraldry  contains  the  legend  of  the  curse  which 
fell  on  our  house  through  the  villainy  of  the 
Imperial  Grand  Chancellor  of  Blazonry,  who 
was  commanded  to  devise  and  procure  a  brand- 
new  heraldic  escutcheon  for  our  family. 

"He  blazoned  our  shield  with  the  ominous 
motto,  <  in  der  fix,  Haben  nix,'  over  gules  d'or  on 
a  stony  field,  which  was  sown  to  a  harvest  of 


6  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

tares  and  oats,  and  embossed  with  a  whirlwind 
rampant.  As  they  were  in  knightly  honor 
bound  to  live  up  to  the  motto  on  their  shield, 
my  ancestors  were  now  doomed  to  remain  poor 
forever.  At  last  they  took  service  with  the  free 
city  of  Hamburg,  where  they  settled  finally  and 
became  honored  citizens." 

Happening  to  remember  my  mother's  admon 
ishment  not  to  annoy  people  with  too  much  talk, 
I  apologized  to  the  young  ladies.  Smilingly 
they  begged  me  to  continue,  for  they  seemed  to 
enjoy  my  boyish  prattle. 

"Listen,  now,  girls,"  said  Rose  laughingly  to 
her  companions,  "now,  I  shall  make  him  open 
his  mother's  closet  and  show  us  her  choicest 
family  skeleton."  "Oh,  no,  Miss  Rose,"  I 
protested,  "my  mother  has  indeed  a  great  closet, 
but  it  is  full  of  good  things  to  eat  and  contains 
no  skeletons."  "You  little  goosie-gander;  you 
don't  understand,"  replied  Miss  Rose;  "I  was 
only  joking.  Of  course,  your  mother  kept  the 
door  carefully  locked  to  keep  you  boys  from 
foraging?"  "No,  madame,"  said  I,  "it  was  not 
necessary  to  lock  the  door."  "Did  she  keep  a 
guard,  then?"  said  Rose.  "Oh,  yes,"  I  replied, 
"and  it  was  very  hard  to  pass  in  without  being 
knocked  down."  ".Was  it  a  man?"  she  asked 


'A  Frail  Bark  7 

mischievously.  "Why,  yes;  mamma  kept  a 
strong,  old  Limburger  right  behind  the  door," 
I  said. 

When  the  girls  had  ceased  laughing,  Rose 
said,  "What  did  your  mother  tell  you  when  you 
left  for  America?"  "My  mother,"  I  answered, 
"implored  me  with  tearful  eyes  to  ever  remem 
ber  how  my  father's  great-great-grandmother 
Brunhilde  (who  was  exceedingly  beautiful)  was 
enticed  into  the  depths  of  a  dark  forest  by  a 
wily,  old  German  King.  Indiscreetly  and  un 
suspectingly  she  followed  him.  There  clan 
destinely  did  he  favor  her  graciously  by  adding 
a  bar  sinister  to  our  knightly  escutcheon  and  a 
strain  of  the  blood  royal  to  our  family.  This 
happened  long,  long  ago  in  the  dark  ages  or 
some  other  dark  place — it  may  have  been  the 
Schwarzwald — and  it  was  the  curse  of  the  stony 
field  that  did  it. 

"  'Oh,  my  son,'  mother  urged  me,  'we  count 
on  you  to  restore  the  unaccountably  long-lost 
prestige  of  our  ancient  family.  In  America, 
behind  the  counters  of  your  uncle's  counting- 
rooms,  you  shall  acquire  great  wealth,  and  his 
Majesty  the  Kaiser  will  be  pleased  to  re-invest 
you  with  the  coronet  of  a  count.  Then,  as  a 


&  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

noble  count  will  you  be  of  some  account  in  tHe 
exclusive  circle  of  the  four  hundred  of  the  great 
city  of  New  York.  Beautiful  heiresses  will 
crave  the  favor  of  your  acquaintance,  and  if 
wise,  you  will  lead  the  most  desirable  one  on  the 
market,  the  lovely  Miss  Billiona  Roque-a-Fel- 
laire  to  the  altar.  His  Majesty  the  Kaiser  will 
then  graciously  change  the  "no-account"  words 
on  our  family's  escutcheon  to  the  joyful  motto, 
«Mit  Geld,"  and  lift  the  blighting  curse  from 
our  noble  house.' ' 

Next  I  related  how  surprised  I  was  when  I 
saw  the  great  city  of  New  York.  However,  I 
expected  to  see  a  large  city  of  many  houses,  ever 
so  high  and  some  higher  yet,  and  therefore  I 
was  not  so  very  much  surprised,  after  all. 

But  in  Illinois  I  first  saw  the  wonderful  forest. 
Oh,  the  virgin  forest!  Never  had  I  seen  such 
grand,  beautiful  trees,  oak  and  hickory,  ash  and 
sycamore,  maple,  elm,  and  many  more  giant 
trees,  unknown  to  me,  and  peopled  by  a  multi 
tude  of  wild  birds  of  the  brightest  plumage. 
There  were  birds  and  squirrels  everywhere!  I 
actually  saw  a  sky-blue  bird  with  a  topknot,  and 
another  of  a  bright  scarlet  color,  and  gorgeoui 
woodpeckers  who  were  too  busy  hammering  to 


rA  Frail  Bark  9 

look  at  me  even.  Oh,  but  they  did  not  sing  like 
the  birds  in  Germany !  All  were  very  grave  and 
sad.  They  seemed  to  know,  as  everybody  else 
did,  that  I  was  a  stranger  in  their  land,  for  they 
gave  me  all  sorts  of  useful  information  and  ad 
vice,  with  many  nods  of  their  little  heads. 

"Peep,  peep!"  counseled  the  bluebird. 
"Thank  you,"  I  replied,  "seeing  is  believing." 
"Whip-poor-will,  whip-poor-will,"  cried  a  large, 
spotted  bird.  "That,"  thought  I,  "is  a  prize 
fighter."  "Cheat,  cheat!"  urged  a  pious-look 
ing  cardinal,  who  evidently  mistook  me  for  a 
gambler.  "Don't,"  roared  a  bullfrog,  who  was 
seated  on  a  log  and  winked  his  eye  at  me. 
"There  is  an  honest  man,"  I  thought.  "Shake, 
good  sir."  In  consternation  and  surprise,  I  in 
stantly  released  his  hand.  "How  is  it  possible 
to  be  both  honest  and  slippery  at  the  same 
time !  This  must  be  a  Yankee-man,"  thought  I. 

I  saw  real  moss,  green  and  velvety  as  the 
richest  carpet,  and  I  drank  of  singing,  bubbling 
waters.  Many  kinds  of  berries  and  nuts,  hard 
to  crack,  grew  in  the  wild  glens  of  the  forest.  I 
gathered  flowers,  larger  and  more  beautiful  than 
any  I  had  ever  seen,  but  they  lacked  the  perfume 
of  German  flowers ;  only  the  roses  were  the  same. 


IO  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

Many  children  did  I  see,  but  they  had  not  the 
rosy  cheeks  of  German  children.  And  I  met 
the  strongest  of  ail  beasts  on  earth  and  tracked 
him  to  his  native  lair;  and  there,  in  the  sacred 
groves  of  the  Illini,  I  worried  him  sorely,  and 
as  David  did  unto  Goliath,  so  did  I  unto  him; 
and  sundown  come,  I  slew  him.  And  for  three 
score  days  and  ten  the  smoke  of  battle  scented 
the  balmy  air. 

The  young  ladies  laughed  heartily  and  said 
that  never  before  had  they  been  so  delightfully 
entertained,  and  they  gave  me  sweets  and  nice 
things  to  eat,  and  said  they  hoped  I  might  stay 
with  them  forever  and  a  day.  We  exchanged 
confidences,  and  they  warned  me  to  be 
ware  of  the  landlord,  who  had  been 
known  to  rob  people.  They  advised  me  to  se 
crete  my  money,  if  perchance  I  had  any.  I 
thanked  them  kindly,  replying  that  I  had  only 
one  dollar  in  my  purse.  This  was  true,  but  I 
did  not  tell  them  that  I  had  sewed  a  large  sum 
in  banknotes  and  some  German  silver  into  my 
kite's  tail  when  I  set  out  on  my  journey  to  the 

West. 

I  complimented  these  charming  girls  on  their 

good  fortune  to  be  in  the  service  of  so  generous 
a  gentleman  as  their  landlord  seemed  to  be ;  for 


'A  Frail  Bark  n 

I  saw  that  they  wore  very  fine  dresses  and  had 
many  jewels.  "Why,  you  little  greenie," 
said  Miss  Rose,  "  he  does  not  pay  us  high 
wages."  "Oh,  I  see,  how  romantic!  how  nice!" 
exclaimed  I.  "You  do  as  the  ladies  in  the  good 
old  time  of  chivalry,  when  knights  donned 
their  colors  and  sallied  forth  to  battle  with 
lions  and  tigers.  You  crave  largesse,  and  the 
gentlemen  favor  you  with  money  and  jewels." 
Then  the  youngest  girl  laughed  and  said,  "Oh, 
you  pore,  innicent  bairn,  and  how  do  yez  ken 
all  this?  and  how  did  yez  know  that 
Misther  Payterson  kapes  a  tiger  at  all,  at  all, 
begorra !"  Another  young  lady  said,  "Dutchy, 
I  reckon  yore  daddy  is  a  right  smart  cunning 
old  fox!"  "Madame,"  replied  I,  indignantly, 
"my  father  is  no  fox,  but  a  minister  of  the  Gos 
pel."  "Oh,  this  bye  is  the  son  of  a  praste," 
screamed  the  loveliest  girl  in  all  Missouri.  "In- 
dade,  I  misthrusted  the  little  scamp.  Och!  oh 
and  where  is  me  brooch  ?  I  thought  all  the  time 
the  little  divvil  was  afther  something.  Thieves! 
Murther!"  Confusion  in  pandemonium  now 
reigned  supreme.  For  one  precious  moment  the 
air  seemed  full  of  long-legged  stockings  and 
delicate  hands  and  purses.  Luckily,  the  brooch 
was  found  and  peace  restored  at  once.  And 


12          Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

i 

Rose  said,  "Oh",  girls,  how  could  you !"  and  she 
begged  my  pardon  and  said  they  did  not  mean 
it.  And  then  I  made  myself  very  useful  and 
agreeable  to  these  lovely  maids,  lacing  their 
shoes  and  dusting  their  chamber,  and  right  gal 
lantly  did  I  serve  them  until  evening. 

After  supper  reappeared  my  evil  genius  in 
the  person  of  the  landlord,  who  took  me  out  to 
the  woodshed.  "Dutchy,  I  have  decided  to 
adopt  you  as  my  only  son ;  have  you  ever  bucked 
a  wood  saw?"  said  he,  and  a  sardonic  leer  dis 
torted  his  evil  features.  After  I  recovered  suf 
ficiently  from  the  shock,  I  answered  indignantly, 
"Sir,  know  ye  not  that  I  have  pledged  my  ser 
vice  to  the  vestal  virgins  of  yon  temple?"  "Ha  1 
Ha !"  laughed  the  villain,  "get  busy  now,  son, 
and  if  by  morning  this  wood  has  not  been  cut, 
you  will  go  minus  your  breakfast."  Thereupon 
he  locked  me  in. 

Caught  as  a  rat  in  a  trap,  I  had  no  alternative 
but  to  comply  with  this  man's  outrageous  de 
mands.  Despairingly  I  plied  that  abominable 
instrument  of  torture,  the  national  bucksaw  of 
America.  This  is  the  only  American  institu 
tion  I  could  never  accustom  myself  to.  I  have 
endured  bucking  bronchos  in  New  Mexico,  I 
have  bucked  the  tiger  in  Arizona,  but  to  buck 


A  Frail  Bark  13 

a  wood-saw — perish  the  thought!  Sore  and 
weary,  I  lay  down  in  a  corner  of  the  shed 
on  some  hay  and  fell  asleep.  I  dreamed  that  I 
heard  screams  of  women,  mingled  with  song 
and  laughter,  and  through  it  all  the  noise  of 
music  and  dancing.  Then  the  dream  changed 
into  a  horrible  nightmare  in  the  shape  of  a  big 
sawhorse  which  kicked  at  me  and  threatened  me 
with  hard  labor. 

Toward  morning,  when  the  door  was  opened 
and  a  drunken  ruffian  entered,  I  awoke  from  my 
troubled  slumbers.  "Hi,  Dutchy,  and  have  yez 
any  tin?"  he  threatened.  "Kind  sir,"  I  replied, 
"when  I  departed  for  the  West  I  left  all  my 
wealth  behind  me."  Verily,  now  I  was  proving 
myself  the  worthy  scion  of  valiant  men,  who  had 
laid  aside  hauberk,  sword,  and  lance,  taken  up 
the  Bible  and  stole,  and  thenceforth  fought  only 
with  the  weapon  of  Samson,  the  strong  I 

"And  so  yez  are,  by  special  appointment, 
chamberlain  to  the  gurruls  by  day,  and  ivver 
sawing  wood  at  nighttime !  Bedad!  I'll  shpile 
the  thrick  for  Misther  Payterson,  the  thaving 
baste,  and  take  this  little  greenhorn  out  of  his 
clutches  and  sind  him  about  his  business."  With 
these  words,  he  opened  the  door  for  me  and  I 
escaped. 


14          Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  'Aztlan 

Farewell,  lovely  maids  of  Kansas  and  Mis 
souri  !  If  mayhap  this  writing  comes  to  you, 
oh,  let  us  meet  again;  my  heart  yearns  to  greet 
you  and  your  granddaughters.  For  surely, 
though  it  seems  to  me  as  yesterday,  the  blossoms 
of  forty  summers  have  fallen  in  our  path  and 
whitened  our  hair. 


AFTER  several  days  I  arrived  at  the  end  of  my 
railway  journey,  Junction  City,  without  delay 
or  accident.  The  trip  was  not  lacking  in  inter 
esting  details.  The  monotony  of  the  never  end 
ing  prairie  was  at  times  enlivened  by  herds  of 
buffalo  and  antelope.  On  one  occasion  they 
delayed  our  train  for  several  hours.  An  enor 
mous  herd  of  thousands  upon  thousands  of  buf 
falo  crossed  the  railroad  track  in  front  of  our 
train.  Bellowing,  crowding,  and  pushing,  they 
were  not  unlike  the  billows  of  an  angry  sea  as  it 
crashes  and  foams  over  the  submerged  rocks  of 
a  dangerous  coast.  Their  rear  guard  was  made 
up  of  wolves,  large  and  small.  They  followed 
the  herd  stealthily,  taking  advantage  of  every 
hillock  and  tuft  of  buffalo  grass  to  hide  them 
selves.  The  gray  wolf  or  lobo,  larger  and 
heavier  than  any  dog,  and  adorned  with  a  bushy 
tail  was  a  fierce-looking  animal,  to  be  sure.  The 
smaller  ones  were  called  coyotes  or  prairie 
wolves,  and  are  larger  than  foxes  and  of  a  gray- 
brown  color.  These  are  the  scavengers  of  the 


1 6          Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

plains,  and  divide  their  prey  with  the  vultures  of 
the  air. 

At  times  we  passed  through  villages  of  the 
prairie  dog,  consisting  of  numberless  little 
mounds,  with  their  owners  sitting  erect  on  top. 
When  alarmed,  they  would  yelp  and  dive  into 
their  lairs  in  the  earth.  These  little  rodents 
share  their  habitations  with  a  funny-looking  lit 
tle  owl  and  the  rattlesnake.  I  believe,  however, 
that  the  snake  is  not  there  as  a  welcome  visitor, 
but  comes  in  the  role  of  a  self-appointed  as 
sessor  and  tax  gatherer.  I  picked  up  and 
adopted  a  little  bulldog  which  had  been  either 
abandoned  on  the  cars  or  lost  by  its  owner,  not 
then  thinking  that  this  little  Cerberus,  as  I  called 
it,  should  later  prove,  on  one  occasion,  to  be  my 
true  and  only  friend  when  I  was  in  dire  distress 
and  in  the  extremity  of  peril. 

The  town  of  Junction  City,  which  numbered 
less  than  a  score  of  buildings  and  tents,  was  in 
a  turmoil  of  excitement,  resembling  a  nest  of  dis 
turbed  hornets.  Several  hundred  angry-looking 
men  crowded  the  only  street,  every  one  armed  to 
the  teeth.  The  great  majority  were  dark- 
skinned  Mexicans,  but  here  and  there  I  noticed 
the  American  frontiersman,  the  professional 
buffalo  hunter  and  scout.  These  were  men  of 


TA  Perilous  Journey  17, 

proved  courage,  and  I  observed  that  the  Mexi 
cans  avoided  looking  them  squarely  in  the  face; 
and  when  meeting  on  the  public  thoroughfare, 
they  invariably  gave  them  precedence  of  passage. 

I  found  opportunity  to  hire  out  to  a  pleasant- 
looking  young  Mexican  as  driver  of  a  little  two- 
mule  provision  wagon.  In  this  manner  I  earned 
my  passage  across  the  plains.  Don  Jose  Lopez, 
that  was  his  name,  said  that  I  need  not  do  much 
actual  work,  as  he  would  have  his  peons  attend 
to  the  care  of  the  mules  and  have  them  harness 
up  as  well.  He  also  told  me  that  we  would 
have  to  delay  our  departure  until  every  team 
present  in  the  town  had  its  cumulation  of  cargo. 
They  dared  not  travel  singly,  he  said,  for  the 
Indians  were  very  hostile.  In  consequence 
whereof  our  departure  was  delayed  for  six 
weeks.  I  camped  with  the  Mexicans  and  ac 
customed  myself  very  soon  to  their  mode  of  liv 
ing.  The  fact  that  I  understood  their  language 
and  spoke  it  quite  well  was  a  never-ending  sur 
prise  and  mystery  to  them.  I  took  daily  walks 
over  the  prairie  to  the  junction  of  two  creeks, 
a  short  distance  from  the  town,  bathed  and 
whiled  away  the  time  with  target  practice,  and 
soon  became  very  proficient  in  the  use  of  firearms. 

The  banks  of  these  little  streams  would  have 


1 8  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

made  a  delightful  picnic  ground,  covered  as  they 
were  by  a  luxuriant  growth  of  grasses  and 
bushes  and  some  large  trees  also,  mostly  of  the 
cottonwood  variety.  But  there  were  no  families 
of  ladies  and  children  here  to  enjoy  the  lovely 
spot.  A  feeling  of  intense  uneasiness  seemed  to 
pervade  the  very  air  and  a  weird  presentiment 
of  impending  horror  covered  the  prairie  as  with 
a  ghostly  shroud.  The  specter  of  a  wronged, 
persecuted  race  ever  haunted  the  white  man's 
conscience.  In  vain  did  the  red  man  breast  the 
rising  tide  of  civilization.  In  their  sacred 
tepees,  their  medicine  men  invoked  the  aid  of 
their  great  Spirit  and  they  were  answered. 

The  Spirit  sent  them  for  an  ally,  an  army  of 
grasshoppers,  which  darkened  the  sun  by  its 
countless  numbers.  It  impeded  the  progress  of 
the  iron  horse,  but  not  for  long.  Then  he  sent 
them  continued  drouth,  but  the  pale  face  heeded 
not.  "Onward,  westward  ever,  the  star  of  em 
pire  took  its  course." 

We  camped  out  on  the  prairie  within  a  short 
distance  and  in  full  sight  of  the  town.  I  made 
the  acquaintance  of  a  merchant,  Mr.  Samuel 
Dreifuss,  who  kept  a  little  store  of  general  mer 
chandise.  This  gentleman  liked  to  converse 
with  me  in  the  German  tongue  and  was  very 


A  Perilous  Journey  19 

kind  to  me,  even  offering  to  employ  me  at  a 
liberal  salary,  which  I,  of  course,  thankfully  de 
clined.  One  morning  after  breakfast  I  went  to 
this  store  to  purchase  an  article  of  apparel.  The 
door  was  unlocked  and  I  entered,  but  found  no 
one  present.  I  waited  a  while,  and  as  Mr.  Drei- 
fuss  did  not  appear,  I  knock'  d  at  the  bedroom 
door,  which  was  connected  with  the  store.  Re 
ceiving  no  response  to  my  knocks,  I  opened  the 
door  and  entered.  There  was  poor  Mr.  Drei- 
fuss  lying  stone  dead  on  his  couch.  I  knew  that 
he  was  dead,  for  his  hands  vtfere  cold  and 
clammy  to  the  touch.  I  was  struck  with  aston 
ishment.  The  day  before  had  I  spoken  to  him, 
when  he  appeared  to  be  hale  and  hearty.  There 
were  some  ugly,  black  spots  on  his  face,  and  I 
thought  that  it  was  very  queer.  I  did  not  see 
any  marks  of  violence  on  his  person  and  nothing 
unusual  about  the  premises.  I  looked  around 
carefully,  as  a  boy  is  apt  to  do  when  something 
puzzles  him.  Then  I  thought  I  would  go  up 
town  and  tell  about  this  strange  circumstance. 

The  store  was  the  first  building  met  with  in 
the  town  if  a  person  came  from  the  railway 
station.  As  I  went  toward  the  next  house,  which 
was  a  short  distance  away,  I  was  hailed  by  a 
tall,  broad-shouldered  man  with  long  hair,  who 


2O          Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

commanded  me  to  halt.  I  kept  right  on,  how 
ever,  meaning  to  tell  him  about  my  gruesome 
discovery.  As  I  advanced  toward  him  he  re 
treated,  and  I  called  to  him  to  have  no  fear,  as 
I  did  not  intend  to  shoot.  The  big  man  shook 
with  laughter  and  cried,  "Hold,  boy,  stop  there 
a  minute  until  I  tell  you  something.  They  say 
that  'Wild  Bill'  never  feared  man,  but  I  fear 
you,  a  mere  boy.  Did  you  come  out  of  that 
store?"  "Yes,  sir,"  I  said.  "And  did  you  see 
the  Jew?"  "Yes,  sir,"  I  answered;  "Mr.  Drei- 
fuss  is  dead."  "How  do  you  know  that?"  he 
questioned.  "His  hands  feel  cold  as  ice,"  I  said, 
"and  there  is  a  black  spot  on  his  nose."  Again 
the  man  laughed  and  said,  "Do  you  know  what 
killed  him?"  "I  do  not  know,  sir,"  I  answered, 
"but  I  was  going  uptown  to  inquire."  "Well," 
said  the  scout,  "Mr.  Dreifuss  had  the  cholera." 
"That's  too  bad,"  said  I ;  "let  us  go  back  and  see 
if  we  can  be  of  any  assistance."  "No,  you 
don't,"  said  the  long-haired  scout;  "I  have  been 
stationed  here,  as  marshal  of  the  town,  to  warn 
people  away  from  the  place.  You  take  my  ad 
vice  and  go  to  the  creek  and  plunge  in  with 
all  your  clothes  and  play  for  an  hour  in  the 
water,  then  dry  yourself,  go  back  to  camp, 
and  keep  muml"  This  was  the  year  of  the 


TA  Perilous  Journey  21 

cholera.  It  started  somewhere  down  south,  and 
many  people  died  from  it  in  the  city  of  St.  Louis, 
and  it  followed  the  railway  through  Kansas  to  the 
end  of  the  track.  Many  soldiers  died  also  at  Fort 
Harker,  which  was  farther  out  West  on  the  plains. 

At  last  we  started  on  our  perilous  journey, 
an  imposing  caravan  of  one  hundred  and  eighty 
wagons,  each  drawn  by  five  yoke  of  oxen.  Our 
force  numbered  upward  of  two  hundred  and 
fifty  men,  the  owners,  teamsters,  train  masters 
or  mayordomos  and  the  herders  of  the  different 
outfits;  all  were  Mexicans  except  myself. 

Several  days  were  spent  in  crossing  the  little 
stream  formed  by  the  confluence  of  two  creeks. 
The  water  was  quite  deep  and  had  to  be  crossed 
by  means  of  a  ferryboat.  Here  I  met  with  my 
first  adventure,  which  nearly  cost  me  my  life. 
My  wagon  was  loaded  with  supplies  and  provi 
sions  and  with  several  pieces  of  oak  timber,  in 
tended  for  use  in  our  train.  When  I  drove 
down  the  steep  bank  on  to  the  ferryboat,  the 
timbers,  which  were  not  well  secured,  slid  for 
ward  and  pushed  me  off  my  seat,  so  that  I  fell 
right  under  the  mules  just  as  they  stepped  on 
the  ferry.  The  frightened  mules  trampled  and 
kicked  fearfully.  I  lay  still,  thinking  that 
if  I  moved  they  would  step  on  me,  as  their  hoofs 


22  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

missed  my  head  by  inches  only.  I  thought  of 
my  mother  and  how  sorry  she  would  be  if  she 
could  see  me  now,  but  I  was  thinking,  ever 
thinking  and  lay  very  still.  Then  my  guardian 
angel,  in  the  person  of  a  Mexican,  crawled  un 
der  the  wagon  from  the  rear  end  and  pulled  me 
by  my  heels,  back  to  safety  under  the  wagon. 
When  I  came  out  from  under  I  threw  my 
hat  in  the  air  and  gave  a  whoop  and  cheer,  at 
which  the  Mexicans  were  greatly  enthused. 
They  yelled  excitedly  and  our  mayordomo  ex 
claimed:  "Caramba,  mira  que  diablito!"  (Egad, 
see  the  little  devil!) 

We  traveled  in  two  parallel  lines,  about  fifty 
feet  apart  and  kept  the  spare  cattle  and  re 
mounts  of  horses,  as  also  the  small  provision 
teams  between  the  lines.  A  cavalcade  of  train 
owners  and  mayordomos  was  constantly  scouting 
in  all  directions,  but  they  never  ventured  out  of 
sight  of  the  traveling  teams.  We  started  daily 
at  sunrise  and  traveled  till  noon  or  until  we  made 
the  distance  to  our  next  watering  place.  Then 
we  camped  and  turned  our  live  stock  out  to  rest 
and  crop  the  prairie  grass.  After  several  hours 
we  used  to  resume  our  journey  until  nightfall 
or  later  to  our  next  camping  ground.  Every 
man  had  to  take  his  turn  about  at  herding  cattle 


rA  Perilous  Journey  23 

and  horses  during  the  nighttime.  Only  the  cooks 
were  exempt  from  doing  herd  and  guard  duty. 

We  pitched  our  nightly  camps  by  forming 
two  closed  half  circles  of  our  wagons,  one  on 
each  side  of  the  road  so  as  to  form  a  corral.  By 
means  of  connecting  the  wagons  with  chains, 
this  made  a  strong  barricade,  quite  efficient  to  re 
pulse  the  attacks  of  hostile  Indians,  if  defended 
by  determined  men.  Every  freight  train  when  in 
camp  was  a  little  fort  in  itself  and  an  interesting 
sight  at  nighttime,  when  the  blazing  fires  were 
surrounded  by  men  who  were  cooking  and  pass 
ing  the  time  in  various  ways.  Some  were  clean 
ing  and  loading  their  guns,  others  mended  their 
clothes.  Here  and  there  you  would  find  some 
genius  playing  dreamy,  monotonous  Spanish  airs 
on  the  guitar,  in  the  midst  of  a  merry  group  of 
dancing  and  singing  young  Mexicans,  many  of 
whom;  were  not  older  than  I.  Card-playing 
seemed,  however,  to  be  their  favorite  pastime; 
all  Mexicans  are  inveterate  gamesters,  who  look 
upon  the  profession  of  gambling  as  an  honorable 
and  desirable  occupation. 

After  the  first  day  out  I  did  not  see  an  in 
ebriated  man  in  the  whole  party.  The  Mexicans 
are  really  a  much  maligned  and  slandered 
people.  They  are  often  charged  with  the  sin 


24  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  "Aztlan 

of  postponing  every  imaginable  thing  until 
manana,  but,  to  do  them  justice,  I  must  say  that 
they  drank  every  drop  of  liquor  they  carried  on 
the  first  day  out;  also  ate  all  the  dainties  which 
other  people  would  have  saved  and  relished  for 
days  to  come.  Surely,  not  manana,  but  ahora, 
or  "do  it  now"  was  their  soul-stirring  battle 
cry  on  this  occasion. 

After  several  days  of  travel  we  encountered 
herds  of  buffalo  and  mustangs  or  wild  horses, 
and  when  our  scouts  reported  numerous  Indian 
signs,  we  advanced  slowly  and  carefully,  mo 
mentarily  expecting  an  ambuscade  and  attack. 
Our  column  halted  frequently  while  our  horsemen 
explored  suspicious-looking  hillocks  and  ravines. 

A  dense  column  of  smoke  rose  suddenly  in  our 
front,  and  I  saw  several  detachments  of  Indian 
warriors  on  a  little  hill,  who  were  evidently  re- 
connoitering,  and  spying  our  strength,  but  did 
not  expose  themselves  fully  to  view.  Simul 
taneously  columns  of  signal  smoke  arose  in  all 
directions  round  about.  Instantly  our  lines 
closed  in  the  front  and  rear  and  we  came  to  an 
abrupt  halt.  What  I  saw  then  made  my  heart 
sink,  for  the  drivers  seemed  to  be  paralyzed  with 
terror.  The  very  men  who  had  heretofore 
found  a  great  delight  in  trying  to  frighten  me 


'A  Perilous  Journey  25 

with  tales  of  Indian  atrocities  were  now  them 
selves  scared  out  of  their  wits.  Young  and  in 
experienced  though  I  was,  I  realized  that  to  be 
now  attacked  by  Indians  meant  to  be  slaughtered 
and  scalped.  Some  of  the  men  were  actually 
crying  from  fright,  seeming  to  be  completely 
demoralized.  I  noticed  how  one  of  our  men  in 
loading  his  musket  rammed  home  a  slug  of  lead, 
forgetting  his  charge  of  powder  entirely.  The 
sight  of  this  disgusted  me  so  that  I  became  furi 
ous,  and  in  the  measure  that  my  anger  rose  my 
fear  subsided  and  vanished.  I  railed  at  the  poor 
fellow  and  abused  and  cursed  him  shamefully, 
threatening  to  kill  him  for  being  a  coward  and 
a  fool.  I  made  him  draw  the  bullet  and  reload 
his  musket  in  a  proper  manner. 

When  I  grew  older  I  acquired  the  faculty  to 
curb  the  instinctive  feeling  of  fear  which  is  in 
born  in  all  creatures  and  undoubtedly  is  a  wise 
provision  of  nature,  necessary  to  the  continuance 
of  life  and  conducive  to  self-preservation. 
Knowing  that  all  men  who  ever  lived  and  all 
who  now  live  must  surely  die,  I  failed  to  see 
anything  particularly  fearful  in  death.  I  may 
truthfully  say  that  I  have  several  times  met 
death  face  to  face  squarely  and  feared  not.  On 
these  occasions  I  tried  not  to  escape  what  seemed 


26  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

to  be  my  final  doom,  but  in  the  dim  conscious 
ness  of  mind  that  I  should  be  dead  long  enough 
anyway,  I  tried  to  delay  my  departure  to  a  bet 
ter  life  as  long  as  possible,  exerting  myself  ex 
ceedingly  to  accomplish  this  purpose.  Un 
doubtedly  this  must  have  made  me  a  very 
undesirable  person  to  contend  with  in  a  fight. 
Luckily  for  me,  I  have  never  been  afflicted  with 
a  quarrelsome  or  vindictive  mind.  This  is  not 
a  boastful  or  frivolous  assertion,  but  is  uttered 
in  the  spirit  of  thankfulness  to  the  allwise 
Creator  of  Heaven  and  earth. 

Looking  around,  I  beheld  a  sight  which 
cheered  me  mightily.  There,  a  few  yards  ahead 
of  my  wagon,  was  a  great  hole  in  the  ground, 
made  by  badgers,  or  it  may  have  been  the  palace 
of  a  king  of  prairie  dogs.  Quickly  I  drove  my 
team  forward,  right  over  it.  Then,  pretending 
to  be  rearranging  my  cargo,  I  took  out  the  end 
gate  of  my  wagon  and  covered  the  hole  with 
it.  Next,  I  wet  some  gunny  sacks  and  placed 
them  on  the  ground  under  the  board.  Now, 
thought  I,  here  is  my  chance  for  an  honorable 
retreat  if  anything  should  go  wrong.  I  in 
tended  to  close  up  the  hole  behind  me  with  the 
wet  sacks,  taking  the  risk  of  snake  bites  in  pref 
erence  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  Indians.  As 


'A  Perilous  Journey  27 

these  ground  lairs  take  a  turn  a  few  feet  down 
and  are  connected  with  various  underground 
passages  and  have  several  outlets,  I  had  a  fair 
prospect  to  escape  should  the  Indians  discover 
my  whereabouts,  for  they  could  neither  burn  nor 
smoke  me  out,  and  were  not  likely  to  take  the 
time  to  reduce  my  fort  by  starvation.  It  took  me 
but  a  very  short  time  to  make  my  preparations, 
and  I  did  it  unnoticed  by  my  companions,  who 
seemed  fully  preoccupied  with  their  own  troubles. 

A  horseman  galloped  up  to  our  division,  a 
great,  swarthy,  fierce-looking  man,  bearded  like 
the  pard.  This  man  did  not  act  like  a  scared 
person.  One  glance  at  the  frightened  faces  of 
his  countrymen  sufficed  to  enlighten  and  also  to 
enrage  him. 

"Senores,"  he  said,  "I  perceive  you  are  anx 
ious  and  ready  for  a  fight.  I  hope  the  Indians 
will  accommodate  us,  as  we  are  greatly  in  need 
of  a  little  sport.  It  may  happen  that  some  of  you 
will  lose  your  scalps,  and  I  hope  that  it  is  not 
you,  Senor  Felipe  Morales.  I  should  be  very 
sorry  for  your  poor  old  mother  and  your  crip 
pled  sister,  for  who  will  support  them  if  you 
should  fail  them?  As  for  you,  Senor  Juan,  it 
does  not  matter  much  if  you  never  again  breathe 
the  air  of  New  Mexico.  Your  young  little  wife 


28  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  'Aztlan 

has  not  yet  had  an  opportunity  to  know  you 
fully,  anyway,  and  your  cousin,  the  strapping 
Don  Isidro  Chavez,  will  surely  take  the  best  of 
care  of  her.  They  say  he  calls  on  her  daily  to 
inquire  after  your  welfare.  Senor  Cuzco  Gon- 
zales,  as  you  might  be  unlucky  enough  to  leave 
your  bones  on  this  prairie,  I  would  advise  you  to 
make  me  heir  to  your  garden  of  chile  peppers. 
To  be  sure,  I  never  saw  a  more  tempting  crop ! 
Mayhap  you  will  have  no  further  use  for  chile, 
as  the  Indians  are  likely  to  heat  your  belly  with 
hot  coals,  in  lieu  of  peppers." 

Then  he  called  for  the  cook.  Senor  Doctor," 
he  said,  "prepare  the  medicine  for  this  man,  who 
is  too  sick  to  load  a  musket  properly,  and  had 
to  be  shown  how  to  do  so  by  a  little  gringo,  as 
I  observed  a  while  ago.  Hold  him,  Senores." 
And  they  held  him  down  while  the  cook  admin 
istered  the  medicine,  forcing  it  down  his  un 
willing  throat.  The  medicine  was  compounded 
from  salt,  and  the  prescribed  dose  was  a  hand 
ful  of  it  dissolved  in  a  tin  cupful  of  water. 
This  seemed  to  revive  the  patient's  faltering 
spirit  wonderfully.  The  cook,  a  half-witted  fel 
low,  was  another  man  who  seemed  to  have  no 
fear.  His  eyes  shone  wickedly  and  he  was 
stripped  for  the  fight.  A  red  bandanna  kerchief 


'A  Perilous  Journey  29 

tied  around  his  head,  he  glided  stealthily  about, 
thirsty  for  Indian  blood  as  any  wolf.  They  told 
me  that  his  mother  and  sister  had  died  at  the 
hands  of  the  cruel  Apaches. 

To  me  the  rider  said,  "Senor  Americauito,  I 
know  your  gun  is  loaded  right  and  is  ready  to 
shoot  straight.  Look  you,  if  you  plant  a  bullet 
just  below  an  Indian's  navel,  you  will  see  him  do 
a  double  somersault,  which  is  more  wonderful  to 
behold  than  any  circus  performance  you  ever 
saw," 

Here  was  a  man  good  to  see,  a  descendant 
of  the  famous  Don  Fernando  Cortez,  conquis 
tador,  and  molded  on  the  lines  of  Pizarro,  the 
wily  conqueror  of  Peru,  and  he  heartened  our 
crew  amazingly.  He  exhorted  the  men  to  be 
brave  and  fight  like  Spaniards,  and  he  prayed 
to  the  saints  to  preserve  us ;  and  piously  remem 
bering  his  enemies,  he  called  on  the  devil  to  pre 
serve  the  Indians.  Such  zealous  devotion  found 
merited  favor  with  the  blessed  saints  in  Heaven, 
for  they  granted  his  prayer,  and  the  Indians  did 
not  attack  us  that  day. 

On  the  following  day,  Don  Emilio  Cortez 
came  again  and  asked  me  to  ride  with  him  as  a 
scout.  He  had  brought  a  young  man  to  drive 
the  team  in  my  stead.  Gladly  I  accepted  his  in 
vitation.  He  arranged  a  pillion  for  his  saddle 


30  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

and  mounted  me  behind  him,  facing  the  horse's 
tail.  Then  he  passed  a  broad  strap  around  his 
waist  and  my  body  and  armed  me  with  a  Henry 
repeating  rifle,  then  a  new  invention  and  a  very 
serviceable  gun.  In  this  manner  I  had  both 
hands  free  and  made  him  the  best  sort  of  a  rear 
guard.  We  cantered  toward  a  sandy  hill  on  our 
left.  A  coyote  came  our  way,  appearing  from 
the  crest  of  the  hill.  The  animal  was  looking 
back  over  its  shoulder  and  veered  off  when  it 
scented  us.  Don  Emilio  halted  his  horse.  "That 
coyote  is  driven  by  Indians,"  said  he;  udo  you 
think  you  can  hit  it  at  this  distance?"  I  thought 
I  could  by  aiming  high  and  a  little  forward.  At 
the  crack  of  my  rifle  the  coyote  yelped  and  bit 
its  side,  then  rolling  on  the  grass,  expired. 
"Carajo!  a  dead  shot,  por  Dios!"  exclaimed 
Don  Emilio.  "That  will  teach  the  heathen  In 
dians  to  keep  their  distance;  they  will  not  be 
over-anxious  to  meet  these  two  Christians  at 
close  quarters!" 

We  were  not  molested  on  this  day  nor  on  the 
next,  but  on  the  day  thereafter  we  were  in  ter 
rible  danger.  The  Indians  fired  the  dry  grass, 
and  if  the  wind  had  been  stronger  we  must 
have  been  burned  to  death.  As  it  was  we  were 
nearly  suffocated  from  traveling  in  a  dense 


A  Perilous  Journey  31 

smoke  for  several  hours.  Then,  fortunately,  we 
reached  the  bottom  lands  of  the  Arkansas  River 
and  were  safe  from  fire,  as  the  valley  was  very 
wide  and  covered  with  tall  green  grass  which 
could  not  burn;  and  no  sooner  was  the  last 
wagon  on  safe  ground  than  the  fire  gained  the 
rim  of  the  green  bottomland.  Our  oxen  were 
exhausted  and  in  a  bad  plight,  so  we  fortified 
and  camped  here  for  several  days  to  recuperate 
before  we  forded  the  river.  This  took  up  sev 
eral  days,  as  the  water  was  quite  high  and  the 
river  bottom  a  dangerous  quicksand.  To  stop 
the  wheels  of  a  wagon  for  one  moment  meant 
the  loss  of  the  wagon  and  the  lives  of  the  cattle, 
perhaps.  The  treacherous  sands  would  have  en 
gulfed  them.  Forty  yoke  of  oxen  were  hitched 
to  every  vehicle,  and  we  had  no  losses.  On  the 
other  side  we  found  the  prairie  burned  over,  and 
we  traveled  all  day  until  evening  in  order  to 
reach  a  suitable  camping  place  with  sufficient 
grass  for  our  animals.  As  there  was  no  water 
and  the  cattle  were  suffering,  we  were  compelled 
to  drive  our  herd  back  to  the  river  and  return 
again  that  same  night.  The  rising  sun  found 
us  under  way  again,  and  by  noon  we  came  to 
good  camping  ground  with  an  abundance  of 
grass  and  water. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  MYSTERY  OF  THE  SMOKING  RUIN.     STALK 
ING  A  WARRIOR.      THE  AMBUSH 

Now  we  were  past  the  most  dangerous  part  of 
our  journey,  leaving  the  Comanche  country  and 
entering  the  domain  of  the  Ute  Indians  and 
other  tribes,  who  were  not  as  brave  as  the  Ara- 
pahoes  and  Comanches.  Here  our  caravan- 
formation  was  broken  up  and  each  outfit 
traveled  separately  at  its  own  risk. 

The  next  day  we  witnessed  a  most  horrible 
and  distressing  sight.  Willingly  would  I  sur 
render  several  years  of  my  allotted  lifetime  on 
earth  if  I  could  thereby  efface  forever  the  awful 
impression  of  this  pitiful  tragedy  from  my  mem 
ory.  Alas !  that  I  was  fated  to  behold  the  shock 
ing  sight !  For  days  thereafter  we  plodded  on, 
a  sad-looking,  sober,  downhearted  lot  of  men, 
grieved  to  distraction,  and  there  I  left  the  inno 
cence  of  boyhood — wiser  surely,  but  not  better ! 
We  neared  the  still  smoking  ruins  of  what  had 
once  been  a  happy  home.  As  I  approached  to 
gratify  my  curiosity,  I  met  several  of  my  com 
panions,  who  were  returning  and  who  implored 


The  Mystery  of  the  Smoking  Ruin     33 

me  not  to  go  nearer.  An  old  Mexican,  ignorant, 
rough,  and  callous  as  he  was,  begged  nv»,  with 
tears  streaming  down  his  face,  to  retrace  my 
steps.  Alas,  when  would  impulsive  youth  ever 
listen  to  wise  counsel  and  take  heed !  I  entered 
the  ruins  and  saw  a  dark  telltale  pool  oozing 
forth  from  under  the  door  of  a  cellar.  Oh,  had 
I  but  then  overcome  my  morbid  curiosity  and 
fled !  But  no !  I  must  needs  open  the  door  and 
look  in.  I  saw — I  saw  a  beautiful  whiskey  bar 
rel,  its  belly  bursted  and  its  head  stove  in ! 

The  trip  across  the  plains  was  a  very  health 
ful  and  pleasant  experience  to  me.  During  the 
greatest  heat  and  while  the  moon  favored  us,  we 
often  traveled  at  night  and  rested  in  daytime. 
By  foregoing  my  rest,  I  found  opportunity  to 
hunt  antelope  and  smaller  game.  I  was  very 
fond  of  this  sport  and  indulged  in  it  frequently. 
One  day  I  sighted  a  band  of  antelope — these  most 
beautiful  and  graceful  animals.  I  tried  to  head 
them  off,  in  order  to  get  within  rifle-shot  dis 
tance,  and  drifted  farther  and  farther  away 
from  camp  until  I  must  have  strayed  at  least 
five  miles.  Like  a  rebounding  rubber  ball,  their 
four  feet  striking  the  ground  simultaneously, 
they  fled  until  at  last  they  faded  from  sight  on 
the  horizon,  engulfed  in  a  shimmering  wave  of 


34  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

heat,  the  reflection  from  a  sun-scorched  ground. 
Reluctantly  I  gave  up  the  chase,  as  I  could  by  no 
means  approach  the  game,  although  they  could 
not  have  winded  me. 

In  order  to  determine  the  direction  of  our 
camp,  I  ascended  a  little  hill,  when  I  suddenly 
espied  an  Indian.  He  was  in  a  sitting  posture, 
less  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away.  Apparently 
he  was  stark  naked  and  his  face  was  turned  away 
from  me,  for  I  saw  his  broad  back  where  not 
covered  by  his  long  hair  glisten  in  the  hot  rays 
of  the  sun.  His  gun  was  lying  within  reach  of 
his  right  hand,  but  I  could  not  see  what  he  was 
doing.  On  the  impulse  of  the  moment  I  dropped 
behind  a  flowering  cactus  for  concealment. 
Then  I  took  counsel  with  myself  and  decided 
that  it  would  be  too  risky  to  return  to  camp  as 
I  had  intended  to  do.  In  that  direction  for  a 
long  distance  the  ground  was  gently  rising  and 
most  likely  the  Indian  would  have  seen  me.  I 
thought  it  probable  that  he  had  staked  his  horse 
out  in  some  nearby  gulch,  and  if  seen  I  would 
have  been  at  his  mercy,  as  perhaps  he  was  also  in 
touch  with  other  Indians  of  his  tribe.  I  rea 
soned  that  I  could  not  afford  to  make  the  mis 
take  of  incurring  the  risk  to  stake  my  life  on  the 
chance  of  escaping  his  observation.  I  had 


The  Mystery  of  the  Smoking  Ruin     35 

started  out  to  hunt  antelopes,  but  now  I  coolly 
prepared  myself  to  stalk  an  Indian  warrior  in 
stead.  I  went  about  it  as  if  I  were  hunting  a 
coyote.  First  of  all,  I  ascertained  the  direction 
of  the  wind,  which  was  very  light.  It  blew  from 
the  quarter  the  Indian  was  in  toward  me.  Next, 
lying  on  my  stomach,  I  dug  the  large  flowering 
plant  up,  and  holding  it  by  its  roots  in  front  of 
myself,  I  crawled  toward  my  quarry,  as  a  snake 
in  the  grass.  Cautiously,  stealthily,  avoiding 
the  slightest  noise,  and  always  on  the  lookout  for 
snakes  and  thorns,  I  crept  slowly  on,  making 
frequent  halts  to  rest  myself.  Twice  the  Indian 
turned  his  head  and  looked  in  my  direction,  but 
apparently  he  did  not  perceive  me.  In  this  man 
ner  I  came  within  easy  gunshot  distance.  Now 
I  took  my  last  rest,  and  with  my  knife  dug  a 
hole  in  the  ground  and  replanted  my  cactus 
shield  firmly.  Then  I  placed  my  rifle  in  posi 
tion  to  fire  and  drew  a  fine  bead  on  the  nape  of 
his  neck. 

"Adios  Indian  brave  prepare  thy  soul  to 
meet  the  great  Spirit  in  the  ever  grassy  meadows 
of  the  happy  hunting  grounds  of  eternity,  for 
the  spider  of  thy  fate  is  weaving  the  last  thread 
in  the  web  of  thy  doom !"  My  finger  was  coax 
ing  the  trigger,  when  a  feeling  of  intense  shame 


36  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

rose  fiercely  in  my  breast.    Was  I,  then,  like  unto 
this  Indian,  to  take  an  enemy's  life  from  am 
bush?    Up  I  jumped  with  a  challenging  shout, 
my  gun  leveled,  ready  for  the  fight.    "For  Dios, 
amigo,   amigo!"  cried  the   frightened   Indian, 
holding  up  his  hands.     'Wo  ten  go  diner  oT  (I 
have  no  money.      Don't  shoot!)    he   begged, 
speaking  to  me  in  Spanish.    Then  I  went  to  him 
and  learned  that  he  belonged  to  a  wagon  train, 
traveling  just  ahead  of  us.      He  was  a  full- 
blood  Navajo,  who  had  been  made  captive  in 
a  Mexican  raid  into  the  Navajo  country.    The 
Mexicans  used  to  capture  many  Navajo  pap- 
pooses  and  bring  them  up  as  bond  servants  or 
peons.     This  Indian  told  me  that  he  had  been 
following  the  same  band  of  antelopes  as  myself, 
and  on  passing  a  beautiful  hill  of  red  ants,  he 
yielded  to  temptation  and  thought  he  would 
have  his  clothes  examined  and  laundered  by  the 
ants.    These  little  insects  are  really  very  accom 
modating  and  work  without  remuneration.     At 
the  same  time  he  likewise  took  a  sun  bath  on  the 
same   liberal   terms.      This   episode   made   me 
famous  with  every  Spanish  freighter  over  the 
Santa  Fe  trail,  from  Kansas  into  New  Mexico. 
Just  before  we  reached  the  Cimarron  country, 
which  is  very  hilly  and  is  drained  by  the  Red 


The  Mystery  of  the  Smoking  Ruin     37 

River,  and  where  we  were  out  of  all  danger 
from  Indians,  I  had  a  narrow  escape  from 
death.  I  was  in  the  lead  of  our  train  and  had 
crossed  a  muddy  place  in  the  road.  I  drove  on 
without  noticing  that  I  was  leaving  the  other 
teams  far  behind.  A  wagon  stuck  fast  in  the 
mire,  which  caused  my  companions  a  great  deal 
of  labor  and  much  delay.  At  last  I  halted  to 
await  the  coming  of  the  other  teams.  Suddenly 
there  fell  a  shot  from  the  dense  growth  of  a  wild 
sunflower  copse.  It  missed  my  head  by  a  very 
close  margin  and  just  grazed  the  ear  of  one  of 
the  mules.  I  believe  that  if  I  had  attempted  to 
rejoin  the  train  then  I  would  have  been  killed 
from  ambush.  Instead,  I  quickly  secured  the 
brake  of  my  wagon,  then  I  unhooked  the  trace 
chains  of  the  mules  and  quieted  them  and  lay 
down  under  the  wagon,  ready  to  defend  myself. 
I  was,  however,  not  further  molested  and  my 
companions  came  along  after  a  while.  They 
had  heard  the  shot  and  thought  it  was  I  who  had 
fired  it. 


277217 


CHAPTER  IV 

A  STRANGE  LAND  AND  STRANGER  PEOPLE 

WE  were  now  within  the  boundaries  of  the  Ter 
ritory  of  Colorado  and  approaching  the  north 
ern  line  of  New  Mexico.  When  we  passed 
through  Trinidad,  which  was  then  a  small  adobe 
town,  we  met  Don  Emilio  Cortez  again.  He 
was  at  home  in  this  vicinity  and  came  for  the 
express  purpose  of  persuading  me  to  come 
with  him.  "My  good  wife  charged  me  to  bring 
her  that  little  gringo,"  he  said;  "she  longs  for  an 
American  son."  "Our  daughter,  Mariquita,  is 
now  ten  years  of  age,  and  has  been  asked  in 
marriage  by  Don  Robusto  Pesado,  a  very  rich 
man.  But  the  child  is  afraid  of  him,  as  he  is  a 
mountain  of  flesh,  weighing  close  on  twelve  ar- 
robas.  Now  we  thought  that  two  years  hence 
thou  wilt  be  seventeen  years  old  and  a  man  very 
sufficient  for  our  little  Mariquita,  who  will  then, 
with  God's  favor,  be  a  woman  of  twelve  years. 
She  will  have  a  large  dowry  of  cattle  and  sheep, 
and  as  the  saints  have  blessed  us  with  an  abun 
dance  of  land  and  chattels,  thou  art  not  required 
to  provide." 


I  thanked  Don  Emilio  very  kindly,  but  was, 
of  course,  too  young  then  to  entertain  any 
thought  of  marrying.  I  was  really  sorry  to  dis 
appoint  him,  as  he  seemed  to  have  formed  a 
genuine  attachment  for  me  and  was  seriously 
grieved  by  my  refusal. 

Rumor  spreads  its  vagaries  faster  among  il 
literate  people  than  among  the  enlightened  and 
educated.  Therefore,  it  was  said  in  New  Mex 
ico  long  before  our  arrival  there  that  Don  Jose 
Lopez's  outfit  brought  a  young  American,  the 
like  of  whom  had  never  been  known  before. 
He  was  not  ignorant,  as  other  Americans,  for 
he  not  only  spoke  the  Spanish,  but  he  could  also 
read  and  write  the  Castilian  language.  It  was 
well  known  that  most  Americans  were  so  stupid 
that  they  could  not  talk  as  well  as  a  Mexican 
baby  of  two  years,  and  that  often  after  years  of 
residence  among  Spanish  people  they  were  still 
ignorant  of  the  language.  And  would  you  be 
lieve  it,  but  it  was  the  sacred  truth,  this  little 
American,  albeit  a  mere  boy,  had  the  strength 
of  a  man.  He  made  that  big  heathen  Navajo 
brute  Pancho,  the  mayordomo  of  Don  Preciliano 
Chavez,  of  Las  Vegas,  stand  stark  before  him 
in  his  nakedness,  with  his  hands  raised  to 
Heaven  and  compelled  him,  under  pain  of  in- 


4O  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  ^Aztlan 

stant  death,  to  say  his  Pater  Noster  and  three 
Ave  Marias.  Others  said  that  Don  Jose  Lopez 
was  a  man  of  foresight  and  discretion  and  saw 
that  the  Indians  were  on  the  warpath  and  very 
dangerous.  Therefore,  he  prayed  to  his  patron 
saint  for  spiritual  guidance  and  succor.  San 
Miguel,  in  his  wisdom,  sent  this  young  American 
heretic,  as  undoubtedly  it  was  best  to  fight  evil 
with  evil.  And  when  the  devil,  in  the  guise  of  a 
coyote,  led  the  Indians  to  the  attack,  then  he 
was  sorely  wounded  by  the  unerring  aim  of  the 
gringito's  rifle. 

Others  said  that  Don  Jose  Lopez  had  set  up  a 
shrine  for  the  image  of  his  renowned  patron 
saint,  San  Miguel,  in  his  provision  wagon,  which 
was  being  driven  by  the  American  boy,  and  the 
boy  took  the  bullet  which  wounded  the  coyote  so 
sorely  out  of  the  saint's  mouth,  who  had  bitten 
the  sign  of  the  cross  thereon.  And  the  evil  one, 
in  the  likeness  of  the  coyote,  rolled  in  his  agony 
on  the  grass  when  he  was  hit  by  the  cross- 
marked  bullet.  Of  course,  the  grass  took  fire 
and  very  nearly  burned  up  the  whole  caravan. 

Other  people  said  they  were  not  surprised 
to  hear  of  miracles  emanating  from  the  shrine 
of  the  patron  saint  of  Don  Jose.  His  grand 
father  had  whittled  this  famous  image  out  of  a 


'A  Strange  Land  and  Stranger  People    41 

cottonwood  tree,  whereon  a  saintly  Penitente 
had  been  crucified  after  the  custom  of  the  order 
of  Flagellants.  This  Penitente  resembled  the 
penitent  thief  who  died  on  the  cross  and  entered 
Paradise  with  the  Saviour  in  this,  that  he  was 
known  to  be  a  good  horse  thief,  and  as  he  had 
died  on  the  cross  on  a  night  of  Good  Friday,  he 
surely  went  to  Glory  Everlasting.  Don  Jose's 
grandfather  made  a  pilgrimage  with  this  image 
he  had  made  to  the  City  of  Mexico,  to  have  the 
Archbishop  bless  it  in  the  cathedral  before 
Santa  Guadalupe.  During  the  ceremony,  it  was 
said,  there  grew  a  fine  head  of  flaxen  hair  on 
the  image  and  it  received  beautiful  blue  eyes. 
And  it  had  the  miraculous  propensity  to  ever 
after  wink  its  eye  in  the  presence  of  a  priest 
and  at  the  approach  of  a  Christ-hating  Jew, 
it  would  spit.  This  virtue  saved  much  wealth 
for  the  family  of  Don  Jose,  as  they  were 
ever  put  on  their  guard  against  Jewish 
peddlers. 

The  rumor  that  Don  Jose  Lopez  had  car 
ried  the  household  saint  with  him  in  his  wagon 
was  at  once  contradicted  and  disproved  by  his 
wife,  Dona  Mercedes.  The  lady  declared  that 
San  Miguel  had  never  left  his  shrine  in  the 
patio  of  their  residence  except  for  the  avowed 


42  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

purpose  of  making  rain.  In  seasons  of  pro 
tracted  drouth,  when  crops  and  live  stock  suffer 
for  want  of  water,  crowds  of  Mexican  people, 
mostly  farmers'  wives  and  their  children,  form 
processions  and  carry  the  images  of  saints  round 
about  the  parched  fields,  chanting  hymns  and 
praying  for  rain. 

On  this  occasion  Dona  Mercedes  availed  her 
self  of  the  chance  to  extol  the  prowess  and  power 
of  her  family's  idolized  saint,  San  Miguel.  She 
said  as  a  rainmaker  he  had  no  equal.  He  dis 
liked  and  objected  to  have  himself  carried  about 
the  fields  when  there  was  not  a  certain  sign  of 
coming  rain  in  the  heavens.  Her  little  saint,  she 
said,  was  too  honorable  and  too  proud  to  risk 
the  disgrace  of  failure  and  bring  shame  on  her 
family.  Therefore,  he  would  not  consent  to  be 
carried  out  in  the  fields  until  kind  Nature, 
through  unfailing  signs,  proclaimed  a  speedy 
downpour.  When  thunder  shook  the  expectant 
earth  and  the  first  drops  of  rain  began  to  fall, 
then  he  started  on  his  little  business  trip  and 
never  had  he  failed  to  make  it  rain  copiously. 
Friends  of  Don  Jose  Lopez,  hearing  all  this 
talk,  were  not  slow  to  take  advantage  of  it. 
The  time  for  the  election  of  county  officials  was 
near  and  they  promptly  placed  Don  Jose  in 


A  Strange  Land  and  Stranger  People    43 

nomination  for  the  office  of  the  sheriff  of 
San  Miguel  County. 

When  people  applied  to  the  parish  priest  for 
advice  in  this  matter,  he  laughingly  told  them 
that  he  did  not  know  if  all  these  current  rumors 
were  true,  qulen  sabe,  but  surely  nothing  was 
impossible  before  the  Lord  and  the  blessed 
saints,  and  Don  Jose  being  a  friend,  he  advised 
them  to  give  him  their  support,  as  he  was  a  very 
good  and  capable  man  who  would  make  an  ideal 
sheriff.  To  be  sure,  the  Don  paid  his  debts  and 
was  never  remiss  in  his  duties  to  Holy  Church. 

We  crossed  over  the  Raton  Mountains  and 
were  then  in  the  northern  part  of  the  Territory 
of  New  Mexico.  What  a  curious  country  it 
was!  The  houses  were  built  of  adobe  or  sun- 
dried  brick  of  earth,  in  a  very  primitive  fashion. 
We  seemed  to  be  transported  as  by  magic  to  the 
Holy  Land  as  it  was  in  the  lifetime  of  our 
Saviour.  The  architecture  of  the  buildings,  the 
habits  and  raiment  of  the  people,  the  stony  soil 
of  the  hills,  covered  by  a  thorny  and  sparse 
vegetation,  the  irrigated  fertile  land  of  the 
valleys,  the  small  fields  surrounded  by  adobe 
walls — all  this  could  not  fail  to  remind  one 
vividly  of  descriptions  and  pictures  of  Old 


44  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

Egypt  and  Palestine.  Here  you  saw  the  same 
dusty,  primitive  roads  and  quaint  bullock  carts, 
that  were  hewn  out  of  soft  wood  and  joined  to 
gether  with  thongs  of  rawhide  and  built  with 
out  the  vestige  of  iron  or  other  metal.  There 
were  the  same  antediluvian  plows,  made  of  two 
sticks,  as  used  in  ancient  Egypt  at  the  time  of 
the  Exodus,  when  Moses  led  the  Jews  out  of 
captivity  to  their  Promised  Land.  The  very 
atmosphere,  so  dry  and  exhilarating,  seemed 
strange.  In  this  transparent  air,  objects  which 
were  twenty  miles  distant  seemed  to  be  no 
farther  than  two  or  three  miles  at  most.  In 
such  a  country  it  would  not  have  surprised  any 
one  to  meet  the  Saviour  face  to  face,  riding  an 
ass  or  burro  over  the  stony  road,  followed  by 
His  disciples  and  a  multitude  of  people,  who, 
with  the  most  implicit  faith  in  the  Lord's  power 
to  perform  miracles,  expected  Him  to  provide 
them  with  an  abundance  of  loaves  and  fishes. 
Here  we  were  in  a  country,  a  territory  of  the 
United  States,  which  was  about  eighteen  hun 
dred  years  behind  the  civilization  of  other 
Christian  countries. 

As  we  passed  through  the  many  little  hamlets 
and  towns,  the  male  population,  who  were  sit 
ting  on  the  shady  side  of  their  houses,  regarded 


rA  Strange  Land  and  Stranger  People    45 

us  with  lazy  curiosity.  They  were  leaning 
against  the  cool,  adobe  walls,  dreaming  and 
smoking  cigarettes.  The  ladies  seemed  to  pos 
sess  a  livelier  disposition  and  emerged  from  their 
houses  to  gossip  and  gather  news.  They  viewed 
me  with  the  greatest  interest  and  curiosity  and, 
shifting  the  mantillas,  or  rebozos,  behind  which 
they  hid  their  faces  after  the  Moorish  fashion, 
they  gazed  at  me  with  shining  eyes.  And  I  be 
lieve  that  I  found  favor  with  many,  for  they 
would  exclaim,  "Mira  que  Americanito  tan  Undo, 
tan  bianco!"  (What  a  handsome  young  Ameri 
can.  See  what  beautiful  blue  eyes  he  has  and 
what  a  white  complexion.)  And  mothers 
warned  the  maidens  not  to  look  at  me,  as  I  might 
have  the  evil  eye.  I  heard  one  lady  tell  her 
daughter,  "You  may  look  at  him  just  once, 
Dolores;  oh,  see  how  handsome  he  is!"  (Volga 
me,  Dios,  que  Undo  es,  pobrecito!)And  the  way 
the  young  lady  gazed  was  a  revelation  to  me. 
The  fire  of  her  limpid  black  eyes  struck  me  as 
a  ray  of  glorious  light.  An  indescribable  thrill, 
never  before  known,  rose  in  my  breast  and  she 
held  me  enthralled  under  a  spell  which  I  had 
not  the  least  desire  to  break.  And  they  said 
that  it  was  I  who  had  the  evil  eye !  To  say  that 
these  people  were  lacking  in  the  virtues  and  ac- 


46  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

complishments  of  modern  civilization  entirely 
would  be  a  mistake  very  easily  made  indeed  by 
strangers  who,  on  passing  through  their  land, 
did  not  understand  their  language  and  were  un 
familiar  with  their  social  customs  and  mode  of 
living.  They  extended  unlimited  hospitality  to 
every  one  alike,  to  friend  or  stranger,  to  poor  or 
rich.  They  were  most  charmingly  polite  in  their 
conversation,  personal  demeanor,  and  social  in 
tercourse  and  very  charitable  and  affectionate  to 
their  families  and  neighbors.  These  people 
are  happy  as  compared  with  other  nations  in  that 
they  do  not  worry  and  fret  over  the  unattain 
able  and  doubtful,  but  lightheartedly  they  enjoy 
the  blessings  of  the  present,  such  as  they  are. 
Therefore,  if  rightly  understood,  they  may  be 
the  best  of  companions  at  times,  being  sincere 
and  unselfish;  so  I  have  found  many  of  them  to 
be  later  on,  during  the  intercourse  of  a  more 
intimate  acquaintance.  In  the  large  towns,  as 
Santa  Fe,  Albuquerque,  and  Las  Vegas,  where 
there  lived  a  considerable  number  of  Americans, 
these  would  naturally  associate  together,  as,  for 
instance,  the  American  colony  in  Paris  or  Berlin 
or  other  foreign  places,  so  as  not  to  be  obliged 
to  mingle  with  the  natives  socially  any  more  than 
they  chose.  But  in  the  village  where  my  rela- 


A  Strange  Land  and  Stranger  People     47 

tives  lived,  we  had  not  the  alternative  of  choos 
ing  our  own  countrymen  for  social  companion 
ship. 

Therefore,  I  realized  when  I  reached  my  des 
tination  that  I  had  to  change  my  accustomed 
mode  of  living  and  adapt  myself  to  such  a  life 
as  people  had  led  eighteen  hundred  years  ago. 
I  thought  that  if  I  took  the  example  of  the 
Saviour's  life  for  my  guiding  star,  I  would  cer 
tainly  get  along  very  well.  Undoubtedly  this 
would  have  sufficed  in  a  spiritual  sense,  but  I 
found  that  it  would  be  impractical  as  applied 
to  my  temporal  welfare  and  the  requirements  of 
the  present  time.  For  I  could  not  perform  mira 
cles  nor  could  I  live  as  the  Saviour  had  done, 
roaming  over  the  country  and  teaching  the  na 
tives.  And  then,  seeing  that  there  were  so  many 
Jews  in  New  Mexico,  I  feared  they  might  at 
tempt  to  crucify  me  and  I  did  not  relish  the 
thought.  Therefore  I  accepted  King  Solomon's 
life  as  the  next  best  one  to  emulate.  While  I 
was  greatly  handicapped  by  not  possessing  the 
riches  of  the  great  old  king,  I  fancied  that  I  had 
a  plenty  of  his  wisdom,  and  although  I  could 
not  cut  as  wide  a  swath  as  he  had  done,  I  did 
well  enough  under  the  circumstances.  I  was, 
of  course,  limited  to  a  vastly  smaller  scale  in  the 


48  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

pursuit  and  enjoyment  of  the  many  good  things 
to  be  had  in  New  Mexico.  Ever  joyous,  free 
from  care,  I  drifted  in  my  voyage  of  life  with 
the  stream  of  hope  over  the  shining  waters  of  a 
happy  and  delightful  youth. 


CHAPTER  V 

ON  THE  RIO  GRANDE.  AN  ABSTRACT  OF  THE 
AUTHOR'S  GENEALOGY  OF  MATERNAL  LINEAGE 

In  the  month  of  September  I  came  to  the  end  of 
my  journey,  as  I  arrived  on  the  Rio  Abajo. 
Now  I  began  the  second  chapter  of  my  life's 
voyage.  No  longer  a  precocious  child,  I  was 
growing  to  young  manhood  and  was  not  lacking 
in  those  qualities  which  are  essential  in  the  suc 
cessful  performance  of  life's  continual  struggle. 
I  was  heartily  welcomed  by  my  uncle,  my 
mother's  brother.  My  aunt,  poor  lady,  had, 
of  course,  given  me  up  as  lost  and  greeted  me 
with  joyful  admiration.  But  she  did  not  venture 
close  to  me,  for  in  me  she  saw  a  strong,  lusty 
young  man,  bright  eyed,  alert-looking  and  car 
rying  a  deadly  army  revolver  and  wicked  hunt 
ing  knife  at  his  belt.  To  be  sure,  I  was  sun 
tanned  and  graybacked  beyond  comparison  with 
the  dust  of  a  thousand  miles  of  wagon  road. 

As  I  had  expected,  I  found  my  uncle  in  very 
prosperous  circumstances,  in  a  commercial  sense. 
And  no  wonder,  for  he  was  a  tall,  fine-looking 
man,  under  forty  and  overflowing  with  energy 


50  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

and  personal  magnetism.  And  my  mother's  lit 
tle  family  tree  did  the  rest — aye,  surely,  it  was 
not  to  be  sneezed  at,  as  will  be  presently  seen. 
Of  course,  mother  traced  her  ancestral  line 
age,  as  all  other  people  do,  to  Adam  and  Eve 
in  general,  but  in  particular  she  claimed  descent 
from  those  ancient  heroes  of  the  Northland,  the 
Vikings.  These  daring  rovers  of  the  seas  were 
really  a  right  jolly  set  of  men.  In  their  small 
galleys  they  roamed  the  trackless  seas,  un 
daunted  alike  by  the  terrors  of  the  hurricane  as 
by  the  perils  of  unknown  shores.  On  whatever 
coast  they  chanced — finding  it  inhabited,  they 
landed,  fought  off  the  men  and  captured  their 
women.  They  sacked  villages  and  plundered 
towns,  and  loading  their  ships  with  booty,  they 
set  sail  joyfully,  homeward  bound  for  the  shores 
of  the  misty  North  Sea,  the  shallow  German 
Ocean.  Here  they  had  a  number  of  retreats 
and  strongholds.  There  was  Helgoland,  the 
mysterious  island;  Cuxhaven,  at  the  mouth  of 
the  river  Elbe;  Buxtehude,  notoriously  known 
from  a  very  peculiar  ferocious  breed  of  dogs; 
Norse  Loch  on  the  coast  of  Holstein,  and  numer 
ous  other  locker,  or  inlets,  hard  to  find,  harder 
to  enter  when  found  and  hardest  to  pronounce. 
In  the  course  of  time  these  rovers  were  visited 


On  the  Rio  Grande  5 1 

by  saintly  Christian  missionaries  and,  like  all 
other  Saxon  tribes,  they  accepted  the  light  of  the 
Christian  Gospel.  They  saw  the  error  of  their 
way  and  eschewed  their  vocation  of  piracy  and 
devoted  their  energies  to  commerce  and  the 
spreading  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ. 

Piously  they  decorated  the  sails  of  their  crafts 
and  blazoned  their  war  shields  with  the  sign  of 
the  cross.  They  kidnapped  holy  priests  (for 
otherwise  they  came  not),  and  taking  them 
aboard  their  ships,  they  sailed  to  their  several 
ports.  Then  they  forced  the  unwilling  Fathers 
to  unite  them  in  holy  wedlock  to  the  maidens  of 
their  choice.  To  many  havens  they  sailed,  and 
in  every  one  they  had  an  only  wife.  They  made 
their  priests  inscribe  texts  from  the  holy  Gospel 
on  pieces  of  parchment  made  from  the  skin  of 
hogs,  and  instead  of  robbing  people,  as  of  yore, 
they  paid  with  the  word  of  Holy  Scripture  for 
the  booty  they  levied.  This,  they  said,  was  in 
finitely  more  precious  than  any  worldly  dross. 
All  hail  to  the  memory  of  my  gallant  maternal 
ancestor,  who,  when  surfeited  with  the  caresses 
of  his  Fifine  of  Normandy,  flew  to  the  arms  of 
Mercedes  of  Andalusia.  Next,  perhaps,  he  ap 
peared  in  Greenland,  blubbering  with  an 
Esquimau  heiress.  Anon,  you  might  have  found 


'52  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

him  in  Columbia  in  the  toils  of  a  princely  Poca- 
hontas.  In  Mexico  he  ate  the  ardent  chile  from 
the  tender  hand  of  his  Guadalupita,  and  later  on 
he  was  on  time  at  a  five  o'clock  family  tea  party 
in  Japan,  or  he  might  have  kotowed  pidgin-love 
to  a  trusting  maid  in  a  China  town  of  fair 
Cathay.  In  Africa — oh,  horror ! — here  I  draw 
the  veil,  for  in  my  mind's  eye  I  behold  a  burly 
negro  (yes,  sah!)  staring  at  me  out  of  fishy, 
blue  eyes.  It  is  said  of  these  gallant  rovers  of 
the  seas  that  they  were  subject  to  a  peculiar 
malady  when  on  shore.  It  caused  them  to  stag 
ger  and  swagger,  use  violent  language,  and  de 
port  themselves  not  unlike  people  who  are  seized 
with  mal  de  mer,  or  sickness  of  the  sea.  When 
attacked  by  this  failing,  their  wives  would  cast 
them  bodily  into  the  holds  of  their  ships  and 
start  them  out  to  sea,  where  they  soon  recovered 
their  usual  health  and  equilibrium  and  continued 
on  their  rounds.  They  were  the  first  of  all  com 
mercial  travelers  and  the  hardiest,  jolliest  and 
most  prosperous — but  they  did  not  hoard  their 
earnings. 

My  uncle  conducted  a  store,  selling  merchan 
dise  of  every  description.  Dutch  uncle  though 
he  was  to  me,  I  must  give  him  thanks  for  the 
careful  business  training  he  bestowed  on  me.  I 


On  the  Rio  Grande  53 

say  with  pride  that  I  proved  to  be  his  most  apt 
and  willing  pupil.  He  taught  me  how  the  na 
tives,  by  nature  simple-minded  and  unsophisti 
cated,  had  lost  all  confidence  in  their  fellow-men 
in  general  and  merchants  in  particular  through 
the,  to  say  the  least,  very  dubious  and  sus 
picious  dealings  of  the  tribes  of  Israel.  My 
uncle  said  he  was  an  old  timer  in  New  Mexico, 
but  the  Jew  was  there  already  when  he  came 
and,  added  he,  thoughtfully,  "I  believe  the  Jews 
came  to  America  with  Columbus."  With  a  pack 
of  merchandise  strapped  to  his  back,  this  king  of 
commerce  crossed  the  plains  in  the  face  of  mur 
derous  Indians  and  with  the  unexplainable, 
crafty  cunning  of  his  race,  he  sold  tobacco  and 
trinkets  to  the  warriors  who  had  set  out  to  kill 
him,  and  to  the  squaws  he  sold  Parisian  lingerie 
at  a  bargain.  He  swore  that  he  was  losing 
money  and  selling  the  goods  below  cost,  not 
counting  the  freight. 

As  the  Indians  had  no  money  and  nothing 
else  of  commercial  value  to  him,  he  bartered  for 
the  trophies  of  victory  which  the  proud  chiefs 
carried  suspended  from  their  belts.  Deprecat- 
ingly  he  called  their  attention  to  the  undeniable 
fact  that  these  articles  had  been  worn  before 
and  had  to  be  rated  as  second-hand  goods.  But 


54  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

he  hoped  that  his  brother-in-law,  Isaac  Drei- 
bein,  who  conducted  a  second-hand  hairdressing 
establishment  in  New  York  City,  would  take 
these  goods  off  his  hands.  This  trade  flourished 
for  a  time,  until,  as  usual,  Israel  fell  off  from 
the  Lord,  by  opening  shop  on  the  Sabbath.  An 
unlucky  Moses  got  into  a  fatal  altercation  with 
a  Comanche  chief,  whom  he  cheated  out  of  a 
scalplock,  as  he  was  as  baldheaded  as  a  hen's 
egg.  Thereat  the  Indians  became  suspicious  and 
refused  to  trade  with  the  Jews  ever  after. 

With  proverbial  German  thoroughness,  uncle 
instructed  me  in  all  the  tricks  and  secrets  of  his 
profession.  He  had  found  that  the  Mexicans 
were  good  buyers,  if  handled  scientifically,  for 
they  would  never  leave  the  store  until  they  had 
spent  all  their  money.  Therefore,  in  order  to 
encourage  our  customers,  we  kept  a  barrel  of 
firewater  under  the  counter  as  a  trade  starter. 
One  or  more  drams  of  old  Magnolia  would  start 
the  ball  to  roll  finely.  Our  merchandise  cost 
mark  was  made  up  from  the  words,  "God  help 
us!"  Every  letter  of  this  pious  sentiment  des 
ignated  one  of  the  numbers  from  one  to  nine  and 
a  cross  stood  for  naught.  When  I  said  to  uncle, 
"No  wonder  that  our  business  prospers  under 
this  mark — God  help  us! — but  say,  who  helps 


On  the  Rio  Grande  55 

our  customers?"  he  was  nonplussed  for  a  mo 
ment,  and  then  he  laughed  heartily  and  said 
that  this  had  never  worried  him  yet. 

There  was  not  much  money  in  circulation  in 
New  Mexico  at  that  time,  as  the  country  was 
without  railroads  and  too  isolated  to  market 
farm  produce,  wool  and  hides  profitably.  Min 
ing  for  gold  was  carried  on  at  Pinos  Altos,  near 
the  southern  boundary,  but  the  Apaches  did  not 
encourage  prospecting  to  any  extent.  During 
the  period  of  the  discovery  of  gold  in  California, 
in  the  days  of  "forty-nine,"  the  people  of  New 
Mexico  had  become  quite  wealthy  through  sup 
plying  the  California  placer  miners  with  mutton 
sheep  at  the  price  of  an  ounce  of  gold  dust  per 
head,  when  muttons  cost  half  a  dollar  on  the 
Rio  Grande.  At  that  rate  of  profit  they  could 
afford  the  time  and  expense  of  driving  their 
herds  of  sheep  to  market  at  Los  Angeles,  even 
though  the  Apaches  of  Arizona  took  their  toll 
and  fattened  on  stolen  mutton. 


CHAPTER  VI 

INDIAN  LORE.      THE  WILY  NAVAJO 

THE  principal  source  of  the  money  supply  was 
the  United  States  Government,  which  main 
tained  many  forts  and  army  posts  in  the  Ter 
ritories  as  a  safeguard  against  the  Apache  and 
Navajo  Indians.  During  the  Civil  War,  the 
Navajo  Indians  broke  out  and  raided  the  Mexi 
can  settlements  along  the  Rio  Grande  and  com 
mitted  many  outrages  and  thefts.  The  Govern 
ment  gave  these  Indians  the  surprise  of  their 
lives.  An  army  detachment  of  United  States 
California  volunteers  swooped  suddenly  down 
on  the  Navajos  and  surprised  and  conquered 
them  in  the  strongholds  of  their  own  country. 
The  whole  tribe  was  forced  to  surrender,  was 
disarmed,  and  transported  to  Fort  Stanton  by 
the  Government. 

This  military  reservation  lies  on  the  eastern 
boundary  of  New  Mexico,  on  the  edge  of  the 
staked  plains  of  Texas.  Here  the  Navajos  were 
kept  in  mortal  terror  of  their  hereditary  ene 
mies,  the  Comanche  Indians,  for  several  years, 
and  they  were  so  thoroughly  cowed  and  subdued 


Indian  Lore.     The  Wily  Navajo       57 

by  this  stratagem  that  they  were  good  and  peac- 
able  ever  after.  The  Government  allowed  them 
to  reoccupy  their  native  haunts  and  granted 
them  a  reservation  of  seventy-five  miles  square. 
These  Indians  are  blood  relatives  to  the  savage 
Apaches.  They  speak  the  same  language,  as 
they  are  also  of  Mongolian  origin.  They  came 
originally  from  Asia  in  an  unexplained  manner 
and  over  an  unknown  route.  They  have  always 
been  the  enemies  of  the  Pueblo  Indians,  who 
are  descendants  of  the  Toltec  and  Aztec  races. 
Unlike  the  Pueblo  Indians,  who  live  in  vil 
lages  and  maintain  themselves  with  agricultural 
pursuits,  the  Navajos  are  nomads  and  born 
herdsmen. 

The  Navajo  tribe  is  quite  wealthy  now,  as 
they  possess  many  thousands  of  sheep  and  goats, 
and  they  are  famed  for  their  quaint  and  beauti 
ful  blankets  and  homespun,  which  they  weave 
on  their  hand  looms  from  the  wool  of  their 
sheep.  They  owned  large  herds  of  horses, 
beautiful  ponies,  a  crossed  breed  of  mustangs 
and  Mormon  stock,  which  latter  they  had  stolen 
in  their  raids  on  the  Mormon  settlements  in 
Utah.  As  saddle  horses,  these  ponies  are  un 
excelled  for  endurance  under  rough  service. 

Mentally  the  Navajo  is  very  wide  awake  and 


'58  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

capable  of  shrewd  practices,  as  shown  by  the 
following  incident,  which  happened  to  my  per 
sonal  knowledge. 

A  tall,  gaudily  appareled  Indian,  mounting  a 
beautiful  pony,  came  to  town  and  offered  for 
sale  at  our  store  several  gold  nuggets  the  size  of 
hazelnuts.  He  took  care  to  do  this  publicly,  so 
as  to  attract  the  attention  of  some  Mexicans, 
who  became  immensely  excited  at  the  sight  of 
the  gold  and  began  to  question  him  at  once  in 
order  to  ascertain  how  and  whence  he  had  ob 
tained  the  golden  nuggets.  They  almost  fought 
for  the  privilege  of  taking  him  as  an  honored 
guest  to  their  respective  homes.  The  Indian  was 
very  non-committal  as  regarded  his  gold  mine, 
but  very  willing  to  accept  the  sumptuous  hospi 
tality  so  freely  rendered  him.  He  was  soon 
passed  on  from  one  disappointed  Mexican  to 
another,  who  in  turn  fared  no  better  and  invari 
ably  sped  the  parting  guest  to  the  door  of  his 
nearest  neighbor.  When  the  Indian  had  made 
the  circuit  of  the  town  in  this  manner  he  looked 
very  sleek  and  happy,  indeed,  but  the  people 
were  no  wiser.  The  knowledge  of  having  been 
shamefully  buncoed  by  an  Indian  and  disap 
pointed  in  their  lust  for  gold  made  the  Mexicans 
desperate.  They  held  an  indignation  meeting 


Indian  Lore.     The  Wily  Navajo       59 

and  resolved  to  capture  the  wily  Navajo  and 
compel  him,  under  torture,  if  necessary,  to  di 
vulge  the  secret  of  his  gold  mine.  Consequently, 
they  overcame  the  Indian,  and  when  they  threat 
ened  him  with  torture  and  death,  he  yielded  and 
said  that  he  had  found  the  gold  in  the  Rio  de 
San  Francisco,  a  mountain  stream  of  Arizona. 
He  promised  to  guide  them  to  the  spot  where 
he  obtained  the  nuggets,  saying  that  the  bottom 
of  the  stream  was  literally  covered  with  golden 
sand,  which  might  be  seen  from  a  distance,  as 
it  shone  resplendently  in  the  sun.  Then  every 
able-bodied  Mexican  in  town  who  possessed  a 
horse  prepared  to  join  a  prospecting  expedition 
to  the  wild  regions  of  mysterious  Arizona.  They 
organized  a  company  and  elected  a  captain,  a 
man  of  courage  and  experience.  The  captain's 
first  official  act  was  to  place  a  guard  of  four 
armed  men  over  the  Navajo  to  prevent  his  es 
cape,  otherwise  they  treated  their  prisoner  well. 

The  women  of  the  town  cooked  and  baked 
for  the  party,  and  undoubtedly  each  lady 
reveled  in  the  hope  to  see  her  own  man  return 
with  a  sackful  of  gold;  and  as  a  result  of  these 
fanciful  expectations  they  were  in  the  best  of 
spirits,  laughing  and  singing  the  livelong  day. 

At  last  the  party  was  off,  and  what  happened 


60          Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

to  them  I  shall  relate,  as  told  me  by  the  cap 
tain,  Don  Jose  Marie  Baca  y  Artiaga,  and  in  his 
own  words  as  nearly  as  I  can  remember  them. 
"Falga  me,  Dios,  Senorf  What  an  experi 
ence  was  that  trip  to  Arizona !  It  began  and 
ended  with  disappointment  and  disaster.  All 
the  men  of  our  party  seemed  to  have  lost  their 
wits  from  the  greed  of  gold.  They  began  by 
hurrying.  Those  who  had  the  best  mounts 
rushed  on  ahead,  carrying  the  Indian  along  with 
them,  and  strove  to  leave  their  companions  who 
were  not  so  well  mounted  behind.  The  first 
night's  camp  had  of  necessity  to  be  made  at  a 
point  on  the  Rio  Puerco,  distant  about  thirty- 
five  miles.  As  the  last  men  rode  into  camp,  the 
first  comers  were  already  making  ready  to  leave 
again.  In  vain  I  remonstrated  and  commanded. 
There  was  a  fight,  and  not  until  several  men 
were  seriously  wounded  came  they  to  their  senses 
and  obeyed  my  orders.  I  threatened  to  leave 
them  and  return  home,  for  I  knew  very  well 
that  unless  our  party  kept  together  we  were  sure 
to  be  ambushed  and  attacked.  I  cautioned  my 
companions  as  they  valued  their  lives  to  watch 
the  Navajo  and  shoot  him  on  the  spot  at  the 
first  sign  of  treachery.  This  devil  of  an  Indian 
led  us  over  terrible  trails,  across  the  roughest 


Indian  Lore.     The  Wily  Navajo       61 

and  highest  peaks  and  the  deepest  canyons  of  a 
wild,  broken  country.  He  seemed  to  be  on  the 
lookout  ever  for  an  opportunity  to  escape,  but  I 
did  not  give  him  the  chance.  Our  horses  suf 
fered  and  were  well-nigh  exhausted  when  we 
finally  sighted  the  coveted  stream  from  a  spur 
of  the  Mogollon  range  which  we  were  then  de 
scending.  The  stream  glistened  and  shone  like 
gold  in  the  distance,  under  the  hot  rays  of  a 
noonday  sun  and  my  companions  would  have 
made  a  dash  for  the  coveted  goal  if  their  horses 
had  not  been  utterly  exhausted  and  footsore.  As 
it  was,  I  had  the  greatest  trouble  to  calm  them. 
Arriving  at  the  last  and  steepest  declivity  of  the 
trail,  I  succeeded  in  halting  the  party  long 
enough  to  listen  to  my  words.  'Companions,' 
I  said,  'hear  me  before  you  rush  on!  I  shall 
stay  here  with  this  Indian,  whom  you  will  first 
tie  to  this  mesquite  tree.  Now  you  may  go,  and 
may  the  saints  deliver  you  from  your  evil  pas 
sion  and  folly.  Mind  you,  sefiores,  I  claim  an 
equal  share  with  you  in  whatever  gold  you  may 
find.  If  any  one  objects,  let  him  come  forth 
and  say  so  now,  man  to  man.  I  shall  hold  the 
trail  for  those  among  you  who  would  haply 
choose  to  return.  Forsooth,  companions,  I  like 
not  the  actions  of  this  Indian.  Beware  the 


62  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

Apache,  senores;  remember  we  are  in  the  Ton- 
to's  own  country!' 

"From  my  position  I  witnessed  the  exciting 
race  to  the  banks  of  the  stream,  and  saw  plainly 
how  eagerly  my  companions  worked  with  pick 
and  pan.  Hard  they  worked,  but  not  long,  for 
soon  they  assembled  in  the  shade  of  a  tree,  and 
after  a  conference  I  saw  them  make  the  usual 
preparations  for  camping.  Several  men  looked 
after  the  wants  of  the  horses,  others  built  fires, 
and  four  of  the  party  returned  toward  me. 
'What  luck,  Companeros !'  I  hailed  them  when 
they  came  within  hearing  distance.  'Serior  Cap- 
itan,  we  have  come  for  the  Indian,'  said  the 
spokesman  of  the  squad.  'And  what  use  have 
you  for  the  Indian?'  I  asked.  'We  shall  hang 
him  to  yonder  tree,'  they  said,  'as  a  warning  to 
liars  and  impostors.'  Eueno)  Caballeros,  he  de 
serves  it.  I  deliver  him  into  your  hands  under 
this  condition,  that  you  grant  him  a  fair  trial,  as 
becomes  men  who  being  good  Catholics  and  sure 
of  the  salvation  of  their  souls  may  not,  without 
just  cause,  consign  a  heathen  to  the  everlasting 
fires  of  perdition.' 

"Silently,  stoically,  the  Indian  suffered  him 
self  to  be  led  to  the  place  of  his  execution.  After 
the  enraged  Mexicans  had  placed  him  under 


Indian  Lore.     The  Wily  Navajo       63 

a  tree  with  the  noose  of  a  riata  around  his  neck, 
they  informed  him  that  he  might  now  plead  in 
the  defense  of  his  life  if  he  had  anything  to 
say.  'Mexicans,'  said  the  Navajo,  'I  fear  not 
death!  If  I  must  die,  let  it  be  by  a  bullet.  I 
call  the  great  Spirit,  who  knows  the  hearts  of 
his  people,  to  witness  that  I  beg  not  for  my  life. 
I  have  not  a  split  tongue  nor  am  I  an  impostor. 
I  have  guided  you  to  the  place  of  gold.  I  have 
kept  my  promise.  You  Mexicans  came  with  evil 
hearts.  You  fought  your  own  brothers.  You 
abandoned  your  sick  companions  on  the  trail  to 
the  coyote.  You  have  broken  the  law  of  hospital 
ity  toward  me,  your  guest,  as  no  Spaniard  has 
ever  done  before.  Therefore,  has  your  God  pun 
ished  you.  He  has  changed  the  good  gold  of 
these  waters  to  shimmering  mica  and  shining 
dross.  Fool  gold  He  gives  to  fools!  As  you 
serve  me  now,  so  shall  the  Apaches  do  to  you. 
Never  more  shall  you  taste  of  the  waters  of  the 
Rio  Grande,  so  says  the  Spirit  in  my  heart!' 

"The  Indian's  dignified  bearing  and  his  in 
spired  words  on  the  threshold  of  eternity  moved 
my  conscience  and  caused  a  feeling  of  respect 
and  pity  for  him  in  my  breast  as  well  as  in  others 
of  our  party.  When  Juan  de  Dios  Carasco,  who 
was  known  and  despised  by  all  for  being  a  good- 


64  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

for-nothing  thieving  coward,  drew  his  gun  to 
shoot  the  Navajo  in  the  back,  I  could  not  con 
trol  my  anger.  'Stop,'  I  shouted,  you  miserable 
hen  thief,  or  you  die  at  my  hands,  and  now. 
This  Indian  should  die,  but  not  in  such  a  man 
ner.  Senores,  you  have  made  me  your  capitan. 
Now  I  shall  enforce  my  orders  at  the  risk  of  my 
life's  blood.  Give  that  Indian  a  knife  and  fair 
play  in  a  combat  against  the  prowess  of  the 
valiant  Don  Juan  de  Dios  Carasco.' 

"Although  greatly  disconcerted,  Juan  de  Dios 
had  to  toe  the  mark.  There  was  no  alternative 
for  him  now,  as  I  was  desperate  and  my  orders 
were  obeyed  to  the  letter,  for  death  was  the 
penalty  for  disobedience.  The  fight  between  the 
Mexican  and  the  Indian  ended  by  the  Navajo, 
who  was  sorely  wounded,  throwing  his  knife 
into  the  heart  of  his  enemy.  It  was  a  fair  fight, 
although  we  accorded  Juan  de  Dios,  he  being 
a  Christian,  this  advantage  against  the  Indian 
(who  was  better  skilled  in  the  use  of  weapons) 
that  we  allowed  him  to  wrap  his  coat  about  his 
left  arm  as  a  shield,  while  the  Indian  was 
stripped  to  his  patarague,  or  breechclout.  We 
buried  the  body  and  allowed  the  Indian  to  shift 
for  himself.  I  observed  him  crawling  near  the 
water's  edge  in  quest  of  herbs,  which  he  masti- 


Indian  Lore.     The  Wily  Navajo       65 

cated  and  applied  to  his  wounds  with  an  outer 
coating  of  mud  from  the  banks  of  the  stream. 
During  the  following  night  he  disappeared.  I 
suspect  that  the  golden  nuggets  which  caused  all 
our  troubles  were  taken  from  the  body  of  a  pros 
pector  who  had  been  murdered  in  the  lonesome 
mountains  of  Arizona. 

"We  allowed  our  horses  several  days'  rest  to 
recuperate  before  starting  on  our  return  trip. 
You  saw,  senor,  how  we  arrived.  Starved,  sore, 
and  discouraged,  we  straggled  home,  jeered  at 
and  ridiculed  by  wiseacres  who  are  always  ready 
to  say,  'I  told  you  so !'  and  by  enemies  who  had 
no  liking  for  us.  But  the  women,  may  Santa 
Barbara  keep  them  virtuous !  they  who  loved 
their  husbands  truly  rejoiced  to  welcome  us 
home,  although  we  failed  to  bring  them  chlspas 
de  oro. 

"As  concerns  the  wife  of  Juan  de  Dios,  and 
who  was  now  his  widow,  pobrecita,  she  was  not 
to  be  found  at  her  home.  She  had  taken  ad 
vantage  of  her  man's  absence  to  decamp  to  the 
mountain  of  Manzana  with  a  strapping  goat- 
herder,  a  very  worthy  young  man,  whom  she 
loved  and  is  now  happily  free  to  marry." 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  FIGHT  IN  THE  SAND  HILLS.   THE  PHANTOM 
DOG 

A  NUMBER  of  years  had  I  lived  with  my  rela 
tives  when  uncle  found  it  expedient  to  sell  out 
his  business.  He  had  prospered  wonderfully  in 
his  commercial  ventures.  Long  since  had  his 
coffers  absorbed  most  of  the  money  circulating 
within  his  sphere  of  trade.  Thereafter  he  ac 
cepted  commercial  paper  in  payment  for  mer 
chandise,  and  trade  grew  immensely.  Our  cus 
tomers  soon  learned  how  easy  it  was  to  affix  their 
signatures  to  promissory  notes  and  to  mortgages 
on  their  lands  or  cattle,  their  horses,  sheep, 
crops,  and  chattels.  Of  course  there  was  a  little 
interest  to  be  paid  on  the  indebtedness,  but  as 
it  was  merely  a  trifling  one  and  a  half  per  cen 
tum  per  month  or  eighteen  per  cent  yearly,  it 
was  of  no  consequence.  And  it  was  so  easy  to 
pay  your  debts.  Just  think  of  it,  people  bought 
everything  they  needed  and  longed  for  at  the 
store  and  paid  for  it  by  simply  signing  their 
names  to  several  papers.  When  the  day  of  pay 
ment  came,  they  could  liquidate  their  debts  by 


The  Fight  In  the  Sand  Hills  67 

renewing  their  obligations.  They  simply  signed 
a  new  set  of  similar  papers  with  the  interest  com 
pounded  and  added  to  the  original  debt.  Surely 
Don  Guillermo  was  conceded  to  stand  highest 
in  popular  estimation  of  any  set  of  men  who  had 
ever  come  to  the  Rio  Grande.  Had  he  not 
shown  the  people  how  to  do  business  in  a  con 
venient  and  easy  manner?  Under  such  a  system 
nobody  worried  or  labored  very  much  and  life 
was  like  a  pleasant  dream.  But  alas !  there  has 
always  been  a  beginning  and  an  ending  to  every 
thing  under  the  sun,  good  or  evil.  The  awaken 
ing  from  an  easy  life's  dream  was  occasioned 
by  a  crushing  blow.  It  fell  on  the  day  of  final 
reckoning,  when  Don  Guillermo,  my  good  uncle, 
thought  the  time  was  propitious  to  realize  some 
thing  tangible  on  sundry  duly  signed,  sealed,  and 
witnessed  instruments.  There  was  a  rumpus; 
neither  earthquake  nor  cyclone  would  have 
caused  a  greater  commotion  in  the  community. 
What,  then,  did  this  lying  gringo  mean  by  re 
sorting  to  the  trickery  of  the  United  States  law 
courts  and  the  power  and  services  of  the  county 
sheriff  ?  Why  did  he  wrest  their  property  from 
them?  Had  this  gringo  not  always  accepted 
their  signatures  as  a  legal  tender  for  the  pay 
ment  of  their  debts?  Had  he  not  told  them 


68  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

time  and  again  that  their  handwriting  was  better 
than  gold?  If  uncle  had  fallen  into  the  clutches 
of  these  furious  people,  he  would  undoubtedly 
have  been  lynched.  But  he  had  wisely  disposed 
of  all  his  property  in  the  country  and  had  left 
with  his  family  for  the  States.  I  remained  in 
the  service  of  the  buyer  of  and  successor  to  his 
business. 

Soon  after  I  began  to  feel  lonesome,  rest 
less  and  dissatisfied,  and  that  life  among  the 
natives  was  not  as  pleasant  and  satisfactory  as 
formerly  may  be  easily  imagined.  In  fact,  the 
gringos  were  now  cordially  hated  and  envied  by 
a  certain  class,  the  element  of  greatest  influence 
among  the  people.  This  produced  a  feeling  of 
unpleasantness  not  to  be  overcome,  and  I  re 
solved  to  emigrate  to  California,  overland,  by 
way  of  Arizona.  I  longed  for  the  companion 
ship  of  people  of  my  own  race  and  wanted  to 
see  more  of  the  world.  There  was  an  oppor 
tunity  to  go  to  a  mining  town  of  northern 
Arizona,  with  several  ox-teams  which  were 
freighting  provisions.  The  freighter,  Don  Juan 
Mestal,  assured  me  that  he  was  very  glad  to 
have  the  pleasure  and  comfort  of  my  company 
and  would  not  listen  to  an  offer  of  remuneration 
on  my  part.  He  said  there  was  the  choice  of 


The  Fight  in  the  Sand  Hills  69 

two  routes ;  one  road  passed  through  the  country 
of  the  Navajo  Indians  and  the  other  road  led 
past  Zuni,  the  isolated  Pueblo  village.  Don 
Juan  said  that  he  would  not  go  by  way  of  Zuni, 
if  he  could  avoid  it,  as  he  was  prejudiced  against 
this  tribe.  Not  that  they  were  hostile  or  dan 
gerous,  but  he  had  acquired  a  positive  aversion, 
amounting  to  abhorrence,  for  those  peaceful 
people  when  he,  as  a  boy,  accompanied  his  father 
on  a  trading  expedition  there.  At  that  time  he 
witnessed  the  revolting  execution  of  a  score  of 
Navajos  who  had  been  apprehended  as  spies  by 
the  Zunis.  These  unfortunates  came  to  their 
village  as  visiting  guests,  it  being  in  the  time  of 
the  harvest  of  maize,  when  these  Indians  cele 
brate  their  great  Thanksgiving  feast.  A  young 
Navajo  chief,  who  led  the  visiting  party, 
aroused  the  ire  of  the  old  medicine  chief  of 
the  tribe,  who  had  lately  added  a  new  attrac 
tion  to  his  household,  beshrewing  himself  with 
another  lovely  young  squaw.  It  was  said  that 
the  enamored  damsel  had  made  preparations  to 
elope  with  the  gallant  Navajo  chief,  but  was 
betrayed  by., the  telltale  barking  of  the  dogs, 
great  numbers  of  which  infest  all  Indian  vil 
lages.  The  old  doctor  accused  the  Navajos  of 
espionage  and  had  them  taken  by  surprise  and 


70  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

imprisoned  in  an  underground  foul  den.  Then 
met  the  chiefs  of  the  tribe  in  their  estufa,  or 
secret  meeting  place,  to  pass  judgment  on  the 
culprits.  The  old  medicine  chief  smoked  him 
self  into  a  trance  in  order  to  receive  special  in 
structions  from  the  great  Spirit  regarding  the 
degree  of  punishment  to  be  inflicted  on  the  un 
lucky  Navajos.  After  sleeping  several  hours,  he 
awoke  and  announced  that  he  had  dreamed  the 
Navajos  were  to  be  clubbed  to  death.  After 
sunrise  the  next  morning  these  poor  Indians  met 
their  doom  in  the  public  square  of  the  village  un 
flinchingly  in  the  presence  of  the  whole  popula 
tion. 

They  were  placed  in  a  row,  facing  the  sun, 
about  ten  feet  apart.  A  Zuiii  executioner,  armed 
with  a  war  club,  was  stationed  in  front  of  each 
victim,  and  another  one,  armed  likewise,  stood 
hehind  him.  A  war  chief  raised  his  arms 
and  yelled,  and  forty  clubs  were  raised  in  air. 
Then  the  great  war  drum,  or  tombe,  boomed  out 
the  knell  of  death.  There  was  a  sickening, 
crashing  thud,  and  twenty  Navajos  fell  to  earth 
with  crushed  skulls,  each  cabeza  having  been 
whacked  simultaneously,  right  and  left,  fore 
and  aft,  by  two  stone  clubs  in  the  hands  of  a 
pair  of  devils. 


The  Fight  in  the  Sand  Hills  71 

It  had  always  been  an  enigma  to  me  that  the 
Pueblo  Indians,  who  were  not  to  be  matched 
as  fighters  against  the  Apache  and  Navajo 
had  been  able  to  defend  their  villages  against 
the  onslaught  of  these  fierce  tribes,  their 
hereditary  enemies.  Don  Juan  Mestal  en 
lightened  me  on  that  topic.  He  said  the  ex 
planation  therefor  was  to  be  found  in  a  certain 
religious  superstition  of  the  Navajos  and 
Apaches,  which  circumstance  the  Pueblo  Indians 
took  advantage  of  and  exploited  to  the  saving 
of  their  lives.  When  they  had  reason  to  expect 
an  attack  on  their  villages,  the  Pueblo  laid 
numerous  mines  and  torpedoes  on  all  the  ap 
proaches  and  streets  of  their  towns.  While 
these  mines  did  not  possess  the  destructive  power 
of  dynamite  or  gunpowder,  they  were  equally 
effective  and  powerful,  and  never  failed  to  re 
pulse  the  enemy,  especially  if  reinforced  by  hand 
grenades  of  like  ammunition,  thrown  by  squaws 
and  pappooses  from  the  flat  roofs  of  their 
houses.  By  some  means  or  other  it  had  become 
known  to  the  descendants  of  Montezuma  that 
when  an  Apache  stepped  on  something  out  of 
the  ordinary  "he  scented  mischief"  and  believed 
himself  unclean  and  befouled  with  dishonor,  and 
fancied  himself  disgraced  before  God  and  man ; 


72  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  'Aztlan 

and  forthwith  he  would  hie  himself  away  to  do 
penance  at  the  shrine  of  the  nearest  water  sprite. 
This  superstition  they  brought  from  Asia,  their 
native  land. 

When  the  day  of  our  departure  drew  near, 
I  visited  my  numerous  friends  to  bid  them  fare 
well  and  receive  many  like  wishes  in  return.  I 
must  own  that  I  felt  a  pang  of  sadness  when  I 
saw  tears  well  up  in  the  innocent  eyes  of  sweet 
maidens  and  saw  the  fires  dimmed  in  the  black 
orbs  of  lovely  matrons  whom  I  had  held  often 
in  my  arms  to  the  measure  and  tuneful  melody 
of  the  fantastic  wild  fandango  ;  musical 
Andalusian  strains  which  words  cannot  describe 
— soul-stirring,  enchanting,  promising  and  deny 
ing,  plaintive  or  jubilant,  songs  from  Heaven 
or  wails  from  the  depths  of  Hades.  Here  I 
lived  the  happiest  hours  of  my  life,  but  being 
young,  I  did  not  realize  it  then. 

When  I  came  to  the  house  of  Don  Reyes  Al- 
varado,  who  was  my  chum  and  bosom  friend, 
and  also  of  like  age,  he  gave  me  a  pleasant  sur 
prise.  He  informed  me  that  there  would  be  a 
dance  at  the  Hancho  Indian's  settlement  that 
same  night,  one  of  those  ceremonial  events 
which  I  had  long  desired  to  attend  in  order  to 
study  the  customs  and  habits  of  these  descend- 


The  Fight  In  the  Sand  Hills          73 

ants  of  the  Aztecs.  Their  social  dances  are  in 
spired  by  ancient  customs  and  are  the  outbursts 
of  the  dormant,  barbaric  rites  of  a  religion 
which  these  people  were  forced  to  abandon  by 
their  conquering  masters,  the  Spaniards.  Out 
wardly  and  visibly  Christians,  taught  to  observe 
the  customs  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  and 
to  conform  to  its  ritual,  these  people,  who  were 
the  scum  and  overflow  from  villages  of  Pueblo 
Indians,  were  yet  Aztec  heathens  in  the  con 
sciousness  of  their  souls  and  inclination  of  their 
hearts. 

Shortly  after  sunset  we  were  on  our  way  to 
the  sand  dunes  of  the  Rio  Grande,  where  these 
poor  outcasts  had  squatted  and  built  their  hum 
ble  homes  of  terron,  or  sod,  which  they  cut  from 
the  alkali-laden  soil  of  the  vega.  They  held 
their  dance  orgies  in  the  estufa,  the  meeting 
house  of  the  tribe.  This  was  a  long,  low  struc 
ture  built  of  adobe,  probably  a  hundred  feet 
long  and  nine  feet  wide,  inside  measure.  The 
building  was  so  low  that  I  could  easily  lay  the 
palm  of  my  uplifted  hand  against  the  ceiling  of 
the  roof,  which  was  made  of  beams  of  cotton- 
wood,  covered  with  sticks  off  which  the  bark  had 
been  carefully  peeled,  the  whole  had  then  been 
covered  with  clay  a  foot  in  depth.  The  floor  of 


74  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

this  long,  low  tunnel-like  room  was  made  of 
mud  which  had  been  skilfully  tampered  with  an 
admixture  of  short  cut  straw  and  had  been 
beaten  into  the  proper  degree  of  hardness. 
Dampened  at  intervals,  this  floor  was  quite  ser 
viceable  to  dance  on.  There  were  no  windows 
or  ventilators  in  this  hall  and  only  one  door  at 
the  end.  This  was  made  out  of  a  slab  of  hewn 
wood  and  was  just  high  and  wide  enough  to 
admit  a  good  sized  dog.  The  hall  was  bril 
liantly  lighted  by  a  dozen  mutton  tallow  dips, 
which  were  distributed  about  the  room  in  can 
delabra  of  tin,  hanging  on  the  mud-plastered 
and  whitewashed  walls.  The  orchestra  con 
sisted  of  one  piece  only,  an  ancient  war  drum, 
or  tombe,  and  was  located  at  the  farther  end  of 
the  room.  It  was  beaten  by  an  Indian,  who  was, 
if  possible,  more  ancient  than  the  drum.  As 
we  approached  we  heard  the  muffled  sound  of 
the  drum  within.  "Caramba,  amigo!"  said  my 
friend;  "they  are  at  it  already,  and  judging  from 
the  sound,  they  are  very  gay  to-night.  Madre 
santisstma!  I  remember  that  this  is  a  great  night 
for  these  Indians,  as  it  is  the  anniversary  of  the 
Noche  Triste,  which  they  celebrate  in  commem 
oration  of  the  Aztec's  victory  over  the  Spaniards 
when  the  Indians  almost  wiped  their  enemies 


The  Fight  in  the  Sand  Hills          75 

off  the  face  of  the  earth.  Senor,  to  tell  the 
truth,  rather  would  I  turn  my  horse's  head 
homeward.  Pray,  let  us  return!"  "And  why, 
amigo,"  I  asked.  "Because  this  has  always  been 
a  day  of  ill  luck  for  our  family,"  said  Don 
Reyes.  "It  began  with  the  misfortune  of  the 
famed  Knight  Don  Pedro  Alvarado,  the  bravest 
of  men  and  the  right  hand  of  Don  Fernando 
Cortez.  In  the  bloody  retreat  of  the  Spaniards 
from  Mexico,  in  their  fight  with  the  Aztecs,  dur 
ing  the  Noche  Triste,  Don  Pedro  Alvarado, 
from  whom  we  were  descended,  lost  his  mare 
through  a  deadly  arrow.  "Muy  bien,  amigo 
Don  Reyes,"  said  I;  "if  you  fear  these  people, 
I  advise  you  to  return  home  to  Dona  Josefita, 
but  I  shall  go  on  alone."  "I  fear  not  man  or 
beast !"  flared  up  Don  Reyes,  "as  you  well  know, 
friend,  but  these  are  heathen  fiends,  not  human, 
who  worship  a  huge  rattlesnake,  which  they 
keep  in  an  underground  den  and  feed  with  the 
innocent  blood  of  Christian  babes.  Lead  on, 
senor,  I  shall  follow.  I  see  it  is  as  Dona 
Josefita,  my  little  wife,  says:  "If  these  young 
gringos  crave  a  thing,  there  is  no  use  in  denying 
them,  for  they  seem  to  compel!  To  the  very 
door  of  that  uncanny  place  I  follow  you,  amigo, 
but  enter  therein  I  shall  not,  unless  I  be  first 


?7"6          Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  "Aztlan 

absolved    from   my   sins    and   shriven   by   the 
padre." 

We  had  now  arrived  at  the  door  of  the  estufa 
(oven),  where  the  entertainment  was  going  on, 
full  blast.  I  alighted  and  my  friend  took  charge 
of  my  horse  and  stationed  himself  at  the  door 
while  I  got  down  on  all  fours  and  crawled  in 
side.  I  seated  myself  on  a  little  bench  at  one 
side  of  the  entrance.  When  my  eyes  got  accus 
tomed  to  the  dense  atmosphere  of  the  place,  I 
observed  that  the  room  was  full  of  people,  danc 
ing  in  couples  with  a  peculiar  slow-waltz  step. 
The  ladies  stayed  in  their  places  while  the  men 
made  the  rounds  of  the  hall.  After  a  few  turns 
with  a  lady,  they  shuffled  along  to  the  next  one, 
continually  exchanging  their  partners.  As  the 
dancers  passed  me  by,  one  after  another,  they 
noticed  me,  and  many  among  them  scowled  and 
looked  angry  and  displeased.  Suddenly  the 
drum  stopped  for  a  few  minutes.  Then  it  be 
gan  in  a  faster  tempo.  Now  the  men  remained 
stationary,  while  the  ladies  made  the  circuit  of 
the  room  and  each  one  in  her  turn  passed  in 
front  of  me.  They  looked  lovely  in  their  cos 
tumes  of  finely  embroidered  snow-white  single 
garments,  trimmed  with  many  silver  ornaments 
and  trinkets  and  in  their  short  calico  skirts  and 


The  Fight  In  the  Sand  Hills          77 

beautiful  moccasins.  Their  limbs  were  taste 
fully  swathed  in  white  buckskin  leggins,  which 
completed  the  costume. 

Faster  and  faster  beat  the  drum,  and  the  sob 
bing,  rhythmic  sound  thrilled  my  senses  and 
filled  my  heart  with  an  indescribable  weird, 
fierce  longing.  I  saw  a  maiden  approach  taller 
and  finer  than  the  rest.  One  glance  of  her 
soft,  wild  eyes  and  I  flew  to  her  arms.  "Back, 
Indians!"  I  shouted,  "honor  your  queen!" 
and  entered  the  lists  of  the  frolicsome  dance. 
Wilder  beat  the  drum  and  faster.  As  the  old 
Indian  warmed  to  his  work,  he  broke  out  in  a 
doleful,  monotonous  song,  the  words  of  which 
I  did  not  understand.  It  sounded  to  me  like 
this  : 

Anna-Hannah — 
Anna-Hannah — 
May-AM— 

Anna-Hannah-Sarah- Wah! 
Moolow-Hoolow, 
Ji-Hi-Tlack! 
Anna-Hannah — 
May-Ah-Ha! 

So  it  went  on  indefinitely. 

To  lay  this  troubled  spirit  I  tossed  him  a 
handful  of  coins,  with  the  unfortunate  result 


,78  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  'Aztlan 

that  his  guttural  song  became,  if  anything,  more 
loud  and  boisterous.  I  had  no  thought  of  ex 
changing  my  partner,  as  the  Aztec  maiden  clung 
to  me.  With  closed  eyes  and  parted  lips  she 
moved  as  in  a  blissful  dream.  I  have  known 
Christian  people  become  frantic  under  the  im 
petus  of  great  religious  excitement  and  I  have 
seen  them  act  very  strangely,  also  have  I  seen 
Indians  similarly  affected  during  their  medicine- 
ghost  dances.  Now  I,  who  had  not  thought  it 
possible  of  myself,  had  become  more  savage  and 
uncontrollable  than  any  one.  I  suppose  it  was 
the  irritating,  monotonous  sound  of  the  war 
drum  that  did  it,  jarring  my  nerves,  and  the 
peculiar  Indian  odor  in  the  stifling  hot  air  of 
the  close  room,  enhanced  by  the  exhilarating 
sensation  of  threatening  danger,  and  that  in  the 
presence  of  the  adored  sex.  Assuredly  all  this 
was  more  than  enough  to  set  me  off,  as  I  am 
naturally  impulsive  and  of  a  high-strung  nervous 
temperament. 

I  must  say  that  considering  the  modest  cos 
tumes  of  these  Indian  ladies  and  their  bashful 
and  shrinking  disposition,  it  does  seem  strange 
that  they  should  fascinate  one  like  myself  of 
the  Saxon  race.  To  be  sure  the  sight  of  the 
bared  shoulders  and  necks  of  society  belles 


The  Fight  in  the  Sand  Hills          79 

when  undressed  in  the  decollete  fashion  of  their 
ball  gowns  ravishes  and  gluts  our  sensuality, 
but  a  momentary  glimpse  of  the  Indian  maid's 
brown  knee  flashing  by  during  the  excitement 
of  the  fandango  is  just  as  suggestive,  and 
the  inch  of  hand-made  embroidery  on  the 
edge  of  their  short  skirts  is  as  effective  as  price 
less  lace  on  gowns  of  Worth.  And  the  Indian 
fashion  has  this  to  recommend  it,  that  it  is  the 
less  expensive  of  the  two  costumes.  Ever  watch 
ful,  ever  on  the  alert,  I  saw  the  sheen  of  a  knife 
flash  from  its  scabbard  in  the  hazy  air,  and 
my  beautiful  partner  shivered  and  moaned  in 
my  arms.  "Dog  of  an  Indian,  dare  and  die," 
shouted  I,  angrily.  Four  times  I  made  the  cir 
cuit  of  the  room,  and  when  again  opposite  the 
entrance  of  this  man-kennel,  I  heard  the  voice  of 
my  faithful  friend,  Don  Reyes  Alvarado,  calling 
me  anxiously.  I  gave  my  lovely  partner  in 
charge  of  her  tender-hearted  sisters,  for  the  poor 
wild  thing  had  fainted  and  lay  limply  in  my 
arms.  The  strong  arm  of  my  companion  grasped 
me  and  drew  me  out  into  the  fresh  air,  where  I 
almost  collapsed,  overcome. 

"Surely,  amigo,"  said  Reyes,  "you  will  not 
blame  me  now  for  not  entering,  but  you  have 
endurance,  por  Dios!  I  should  not  have  sur- 


'8o  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  'Aztlan 

vived  so  long.  Thank  God  you  came  out  alive ! 
When  I  saw  them  pass  in  knives,  I  had  my 
doubts  and  momentarily  expected  to  hear  the 
report  of  your  revolver.  But  when  I  saw  you 
pass  by  infatuated  with  Jtz-Li-Cama,  the  ca 
cique's  daughter  and  wife  of  the  murderous 
scoundrel,  El  Macho,  then  I  gave  you  up.  Oh, 
see  what  is  happening  now.  Amigo,  you  have 
broken  up  the  dance.  So  it  seemed.  The  drum 
was  silent  now  and  we  heard  the  voices  of  men 
arguing  in  the  Aztec  idiom.  Of  a  sudden  the 
lights  were  extinguished  and  the  crowd  came 
out  with  a  rush,  and  silently  they  stole  away  in 
the  darkness. 

"Now,  amigo,"  said  Reyes,  "let  me  tell  you 
something,  which  may  haply  serve  you  well. 
Knowing  that  an  American  accomplishes  things 
whick  a  Mexican  like  myself  must  let  alone,  I 
advise  you  to  try  for  the  hidden  treasure  of  La 
Gran  Quivira.  Seeing  that  you  are  in  the  good 
graces  of  Jtz-Li-Cama,  you  might  prevail  with 
the  cacique  to  guide  you.  He  is  said  to  be  tKe 
only  living  man  who  knows  the  secret  of  the 
trove  in  the  ruins  of  the  sacred  temple  of  the 
ancient  city.  The  Indians  believe  that  this 
treasure,  which  the  Aztecs  hid  from  the  Span 
iards,  is  guarded  by  a  terrible  phantom  dog,  the 


The  Fight  in  the  Sand  Hills          8 1 

specter  of  one  of  the  great  dogs  of  Fernando 
Cortez  which  ravened  among  their  Aztec  an 
cestors.  They  fear  the  specter  of  this  fabled 
Perro  de  la  Malinche  more  than  anything  else  on 
earth,  as  it  is  said  to  harrow  their  souls  in  Hades 
as  it  ravened  their  bodies  when  in  the  flesh." 

After  smoking  a  few  cigarritos,  my  friend 
proposed  to  ride  home,  as  there  was  really  noth 
ing  else  to  be  done.  We  rode  slowly  along,  en 
joying  the  beautiful  night  of  this  faultless  cli 
mate,  and  I  shall  ever  remember  this  night  to 
my  last  day.  There  was  a  pleasant,  refreshing 
odor  in  the  air,  the  scent  of  the  wild  thyme 
which  grows  in  these  sand  dunes.  The  moon 
rose  over  the  Manzana  range  and  flooded  the 
broad  valley  with  its  soft,  silvery  rays.  Sud 
denly,  at  a  sharp  turn  of  the  trail,  we  found  our 
selves  surrounded  by  silent  forms  arisen  from 
the  misty  ground.  "Don  Reyes  Alvarado," 
spoke  the  voice  of  the  Indian,  known  as  the 
macho,  "I  have  come  for  revenge  and  am  now 
ready  to  wipe  out  the  insults  you  heaped  on  me 
when  you  charged  me  with  the  theft  of  your 
calves.  I  challenge  thee  to  fight.  Alight  from 
thy  horse,  cowardly  Spaniard!  To-night  of  all 
nights  shalt  thou  feel  the  Indians'  blade  between 
thy  ribs."  "Fight  him,  amigo"  I  said.  "I 


82  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

shall  enforce  fair  play."  But  my  friend  Reyes, 
whom  I  knew  to  be  a  man  of  both  strength  and 
courage,  weakened,  being  cowed  with  the  super 
stition  of  the  unlucky  Noche  Triste.  "To-mor 
row  I  shall  fight  thee,  Indian,"  he  answered, 
"not  at  nighttime,  like  a  thieving  coyote."  "If 
thou  wert  not  astride  thy  horse  and  out  of  my 
reach,  thou  wouldst  not  dare  say  that  to  me, 
thou  cuckold  dupe  of  the  Americans!"  sneered 
the  Indian.  This  insult  to  my  companion 
angered  me,  and  I  demanded  a  retraction  and 
an  apology  therefor  from  the  Indian.  When 
the  macho  flatly  refused  and  repeated  the  insult 
in  a  more  aggravating  manner,  I  replied  that  I 
feared  not  to  meet  him  or  any  other  goatherding 
Indian  and  was  ready  to  fight  him  on  the  spot. 

Saying  this,  I  dismounted  and  threw  my 
horse's  bridle  to  my  friend  Reyes  to  hold.  Then 
the  cacique,  or  Pueblo  chief,  the  father  of  Jtz- 
Li-Cama,  appeared  and  demanded  our  weapons. 
"I  shall  not  interfere  in  this  fight,  sefiores,"  said 
he,  "if  you  surrender  your  weapons  to  me,  the 
lawful  alguacil  (officer)  of  this  district."  He 
then  took  the  macho's  knife,  and  I  gave  him  my 
revolver  and  stripped  for  the  fray. 

I  advanced  and  scratched  a  circle  of  about 
twelve  feet  diameter  in  the  deep  sand  with  my 


The  Fight  in  the  Sand  Hills          83 

foot,  then  I  stepped  to  the  center  of  this  ring 
and  awaited  my  antagonist.  I  cautioned  my 
friend  Reyes  to  see  to  it  that  no  one  else  over 
stepped  the  line.  To  the  lonely  sand  dunes  of 
the  Rio  Grande  unwittingly  I  thus  introduced 
the  manly  sport  of  the  prize  ring.  But  the  bat 
tle  was  not  fought  for  lucre  or  fame,  nor  ac 
cording  to  the  London  Prize  Ring  Rules ;  it  was 
fought  in  defense  of  a  friend's  honor,  and  the 
stake  was  life  or  death.  The  Indian  made  a 
rush  for  me,  but  I  avoided  him  and  warded  off 
his  blows.  I  did  not  touch  him  till  I  saw  my 
chance,  and  then  I  tapped  him  under  the  chin 
which  sent  him  sprawling.  He  arose  promptly 
and  came  for  me  in  a  rage,  when  I  felled  him 
with  a  blow  on  the  head.  Again  he  came,  and 
this  time  he  gave  me  a  stunning  blow  in  the 
face,  which  maddened  me  so,  that  I  took  the 
offensive  and  laid  him  low  with  a  terrific  hit. 
I  was  now  thoroughly  infuriated  and  threw  all 
caution  to  the  winds.  When  he  arose  once  more, 
I  attacked  him.  He  took  to  his  heels  and  I  fol 
lowed  him  up.  I  noticed  then  that  the  whole 
crowd  of  Indians  were  running  after  us,  but  I 
had  now  become  reckless  and  did  not  mind. 
Then  I  stumbled  over  a  root  and  fell  face  down 
in  the  sand.  Before  I  could  arise  fully  the 


§4          Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

macho  had  turned  and  thrown  himself  upon  me. 
I  managed  to  turn  over  on  my  back  and  gripped 
him  by  throat  and  face,  so  that  he  was  really  in 
my  power,  and  I  felt  that  he  was  subdued  so 
that  I  could  easily  force  him  under,  and,  small 
wonder,  for  with  the  terrible  grip  of  my  hand 
had  I  once  crushed  a  man's  fingers  in  a  wrestling 
match.  Now  I  used  the  macho's  body  as  a 
shield  against  the  furious  onslaught  of  his 
people,  who  attacked  me  with  rocks,  clubs,  and 
anything  they  could  lay  hands  to.  I  thought, 
and  I  never  ceased  thinking  and  planning  for 
one  moment,  that  the  affair  looked  very  serious 
for  me,  when  I  saw  the  cacique  approach  with 
my  pistol  in  hand,  exclaiming,  "Now,  gringo, 
thou  shalt  die,  on  the  altar  of  the  god,  at  the 
sacred  shrine  of  Aztlan,  I  shall  lay  thy  quiver 
ing  heart!"  In  vain  I  looked  for  help  from  my 
companion,  who  had  sought  safety  in  flight. 
Something  had  to  be  done  and  that  quickly. 
Surely  I  had  one  trusty  friend,  true  as  steel,  who 
would  not  forsake  me  in  the  extremity  of  my 
peril.  I  bethought  me  of  my  little  "American 
bulldog"  which  I  had  picked  up  in  the  cars  in 
Kansas,  and  which  had  ever  since  followed  me 
faithfully.  "Sic-semper-Cerberus-Sic!"  My 
right  hand  stole  to  my  hip,  a  short  sharp  barkj 


The  Fight  in  the  Sand  Hills          85 

and  the  treacherous  cacique  fell  over  with  a 
crimson  stain  on  his  forehead.  At  the  same  mo 
ment  a  weird,  uncanny  yelp  pierced  the  night, 
and  a  tremendous  shaggy  phantom  cloud  ob 
scured  the  slender  sickle  of  the  moon.  Terrified, 
the  Indians  screamed  "El  Perrof  El  Perrodela 
Malinche!"  and  shrilly  the  voices  of  frightened 
squaws  took  up  the  refrain,  "Perrof  Perrof 
Gringo  Perrof" 

When  I  staggered  to  my  feet,  I  was  alone, 
sorely  bruised  and  wounded,  but  master  of  the 
field.  I  recovered  my  revolver,  which  lay  at 
my  feet  and  contrived  to  mount  my  horse,  whose 
bridle  had  caught  on  the  greasewood  brush,  and 
I  headed  for  home. 

Not  long  thereafter  I  met  my  friend  Reyes, 
who  was  followed  by  a  retinue  of  peons. 
"Gracias  a  Dios.  Amigo!"  he  exclaimed,  on 
seeing  me.  "I  came  after  your  body,  if  it  were 
to  be  found,  and  here  you  are  alive.  When  I 
heard  the  report  of  firearms  and  knowing  that 
those  devils  had  your  weapon,  I  feared  the 
worst.  How  on  earth  did  you  manage  to  escape 
them  ?  Seeing  you  down  and  beset  by  the  whole 
tribe,  I  gave  you  up  for  dead  and  fled." 

I  told  my  friend  that  with  God's  help  and  the 
phantom  dog's  assistance  I  had  beaten  off  my 


86  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

assailants,  and  I  thought  that  the  cacique  had 
been  sorely  bitten  by  the  dog.  Dona  Josefita 
was  very  anxious  and  excited.  When  she  saw 
me  coming,  she  cried,  "The  saints  preserve  us, 
oh  here  he  is !  Mercy,  how  he  looks,  pobredto! 
he  is  cut  all  to  pieces.  Hurry,  Reyes,  bring  him 
in  here  and  lay  him  gently  down.  Hombre, 
husband,  coward!  how  couldst  thou  abandon 
thy  friend  who  fought  for  thy  honor,  not  fearing 
the  death.  I  wager  that  pale  hussy,  Jtz-Li- 
Cama,  was,  as  usual,  the  cause  of  this  strife  be 
tween  men !" 

The  kind  lady  then  attended  deftly  and  skill 
fully  to  the  dressing  of  my  wounds,  applying 
soothing  herbs  and  healing  ointments,  which 
tended  to  allay  the  fever,  and  she  nursed  me 
with  the  tenderest  care,  so  that  in  a  week's  time 
I  was  as  well  as  ever,  though  not  without  a  feel 
ing  of  regret  for  my  too  speedy  recovery. 

Of  course,  there  arose  the  rumor  of  a  fierce 
battle  between  Americans  and  Indians.  To 
silence  this  silly  talk  and  to  avoid  unpleasant 
complications,  I  surrendered  myself  to  the  al 
calde  of  the  precinct  and  accused  myself  of  hav 
ing  disturbed  the  peace  of  the  realm.  Pleading 
my  case,  I  stated  that  as  there  was  nobody  but 
the  peace  disturbers  involved,  and  as  said  parties 


The  Fight  in  the  Sand  Hills          87 

did  not  make  any  further  claim  upon  the  Honor 
able  Court,  therefore,  under  the  statute  of  the 
Territory  and  the  Constitution  of  the  United 
States,  the  law  required  that  the  court  mulct  the 
guilty  parties  in  the  payment  of  a  nominal  fine 
and  discharge  the  culprits.  The  Honorable 
Court  decreed  that  I  as  an  American  ought  to 
know  the  American  law  best,  and  discharged 
me  after  I  paid  my  self-imposed  fine.  The  ad 
ministering  of  justice  in  cases  of  importance  was, 
of  course,  relegated  to  the  United  States  Cir 
cuit  Courts,  but  Uncle  Sam  did  not  care  to  med 
dle  with  the  many  troublesome  alcaldes  or  jus 
tices  of  the  peace,  as  he  did  not  understand  the 
Spanish  language  very  well.  This  was  certainly 
humiliating  and  embarrassing,  but  who  can 
blame  him,  as  no  one  is  over  anxious  to  be  rated 
an  ignorant  person. 

My  Mexican  friends  decided  to  give  a  fare 
well  party  in  my  honor.  Accordingly  they  made 
great  preparations.  They  secured  the  largest 
sola,  or  hall,  in  the  township  and  scoured  the 
country  for  musicians — fiddlers  and  guitar  play 
ers.  Every  person  of  any  social  notability  was 
invited.  They  drew  the  line  of  social  respecta 
bility  at  peons,  or  bondmen.  This  was  a  happy- 
go-lucky  caste  of  people  who  possessed  no  prop- 


B8  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  'Aztlan 

erty  nor  anything  else,  and  consequently  they 
had  no  cares  and  were  under  no  responsibility  of 
any  kind,  as  the  wealthier  classes,  who  virtually 
owned  them,  had  to  provide  for  their  necessities. 
The  system  of  peonage  in  New  Mexico  had  been 
abolished  with  the  abolition  of  slavery  in  the 
United  States,  but  the  peons  did  not  realize 
the  wretchedness  of  their  deplorable  social 
status,  and  in  their  ignorance  they  regarded  their 
bondage  as  a  privilege,  believing  themselves  for 
tunate  to  have  their  wants  provided  for  by  their 
patrones.  They  were  treated  kindly  by  their 
masters  and  looked  upon  as  poor  relations  and 
intimate  but  humble  friends. 

The  entertainment  was  to  be  of  the  velorio 
(wake)  type,  which  begins  as  a  prayer  meeting 
and  ends  in  a  dance.  My  friends  exerted  them 
selves  to  the  utmost  to  make  this  event  the  social 
climax  of  the  season.  They  sent  a  committee  to 
the  pueblo  of  Isleta  for  several  goatskins  full 
of  native  wine,  and  incidentally  they  borrowed 
San  Augustin,  the  pueblo's  famous  image  saint, 
who  they  intended  should  preside  over  the 
velorio.  As  this  prayer  meeting  was  to  be  in 
my  honor  and  for  the  sake  of  invoking  the  pro 
tection  of  the  saints  on  my  journey,  they  thought 
it  best  to  procure  San  Augustin,  who  being  the 


'The  Fight  in  the  Sand  Hills          89 

patron  saint  of  the  heathen  Isleta  Indians,  would 
not  mind  giving  a  heretic  Protestant  gringo  a 
good  send-off,  as  he  was  accustomed  to  deal  with 
heresy.  They  also  procured  a  dozen  fat  mutton 
sheep,  which  were  to  be  barbecued  and  served 
with  chile  pelado  to  the  invited  guests,  surely  a 
tempting  menu  and  hot!  The  ladies  baked 
bollos,  tamales  and  frijoles.  Melons  and  can 
taloupes  were  brought  in  by  the  cartload.  I 
was  waited  upon  by  a  committee  and  received  a 
formal  invitation;  for  everything  was  done  in 
grand  Spanish  style.  When  I  arrived  at  the 
festive  hall  the  ceremonies  began.  The  ladies 
knelt  before  San  Augustin,  praying  and  chant 
ing  alternately.  I  took  my  customary  station  at 
the  door,  as  master  of  the  artillery.  At  the 
singing  of  a  certain  stanza  and  after  the  words, 
"  Angel  es,y  Seraphim  es! Santo!  Santo! Santo!" 
I  received  my  cue  from  one  of  the  deacons  who 
gave  the  order:  "Fuego,  maestro!"  and  I  dis 
charged  my  double  barreled  shotgun  and  a  brace 
of  six  shooters  in  lightning-like  succession. 
Surely  this  was  pious  devotion,  properly  em 
phasized,  and  it  kept  San  Augustin  from  falling 
asleep.  I  used  up  a  pound  of  gunpowder  that 
night,  and  this  was  said  to  have  been  the  grand 
est,  most  successful  velorio  ever  held  in  that  part 


90  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

of  the  world.  At  eleven  o'clock  I  announced 
that  my  battery  was  overheated  and  too  dan 
gerous  to  reload,  which  stopped  the  praying  and 
the,  grand  baile  began.  There  were  several  hun 
dred  dancing  couples,  who  enjoyed  themselves 
to  the  utmost  until  sunrise,  and  nobody  thought 
of  leaving  for  home  until  everything  eatable  and 
liquid  was  disposed  of. 

Now  the  date  of  our  departure  had  arrived, 
and  very  sad,  indeed,  was  I  to  leave  these  people 
who  had  done  their  very  best  to  make  me  feel 
at  home  with  them  and  who  seemed  to  be  really 
fond  of  me.  I  consoled  Dona  Josefita  some 
what  with  the  promise  that  I  would  return  some 
day  and  find  her  the  treasure  of  La  Gran  Qui- 
vira.  Don  Juan  Mestal,  the  freighter,  seemed 
as  reluctant  to  leave  as  I  was;  something  was 
always  turning  up  to  delay  our  start.  But  at 
last  we  were  off. 

After  three  days  of  travel,  we  came  to  a  small 
town,  where  I  met  a  Mexican  whom  I  knew  on 
the  Rio  Grande,  where  he  had  formerly  lived. 
He  invited  me  cordially  to  the  wedding  of  his 
sister,  which  was  to  be  on  the  next  day  at  old 
Fort  Wingate,  an  abandoned  fort,  and  then  a 
Mexican  settlement.  This  man  said  that  he  had 
come  on  purpose  to  meet  me,  as  he  had  heard 


The  Fight  in  the  Sand  Hills  91 

of  my  intentions  to  leave  the  country.  Although 
I  did  not  like  the  man,  who  was  said  to  be  jealous 
of  Americans,  I  accepted  his  urgent  invitation 
more  from  curiosity  to  learn  what  he  meant  to 
do  than  for  other  reasons. 

The  next  morning  I  started  early  from  camp 
and  rode  over  to  the  little  town,  distant  fifteen 
miles.  When  I  arrived  in  front  of  my  prospec 
tive  host's  house  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  two  men, 
who  were  sneaking  off  toward  an  old  corral. 
Then  I  knew  what  was  in  the  wind,  for  those 
two  men  were  known  to  me  as  desperate  cut 
throat  thieves  and  highwaymen;  their  specialty 
was  to  waylay  and  murder  American  travelers. 
My  kind  friend  professed  to  be  overmuch  de 
lighted  at  my  arrival.  He  took  charge  of  my 
horse  and  invited  me  into  his  house,  where  I 
met  the  bridal  couple  and  their  friends,  who 
were  carousing  and  gambling.  I  joined  and 
made  merry  with  them.  At  ten  o'clock  the 
whole  party  made  ready  to  proceed  to  the 
chapel,  where  the  marriage  ceremony  was  to 
be  performed.  I  simulated  the  part  of  a  very 
inebriated  person,  a  condition  which  they  looked 
forward  to  with  hope  and  satisfaction,  and  told 
them  that  I  would  stay  at  the  house  to  await 
their  return.  When  everybody  had  left  I 


92  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

thought  I  might  as  well  get  under  way,  feeling 
lonesome.  I  went  out  and  around  to  the  rear 
of  the  house,  where  the  corral  was,  to  get  my 
horse,  but  found  the  gate  fastened  with  chains 
and  securely  locked.  The  corral  walls  were 
built  of  adobe,  and  the  two  walls  of  it  were  a 
continuation  of  the  side  walls  of  the  house,  and 
its  end  wall  formed  an  enclosure  or  backyard. 
My  horse  was  there,  and  I  found  my  saddle 
in  one  of  the  rooms  of  the  building,  hidden 
under  a  blanket.  I  entered  the  corral  through 
the  back  door  of  the  house,  caught  and  sad 
dled  my  horse,  and  then  led  him  out  to 
the  street.  This  was  a  very  laughable  manner 
of  leave-taking.  The  house  was  cut  up  into  a 
labyrinth  of  small  rooms,  just  large  enough  for 
a  horse  to  turn  around  in,  and  the  doors  were 
low  and  narrow.  As  I  could  not  find  the  outer 
door,  I  led  my  horse  successively  into  every  room 
in  the  house. 

There  is  no  furniture  such  as  we  use  in  a  typ-< 
ical  Spanish  dwelling,  no  bedsteads,  tables,  or 
chairs.  The  inmates  squat  on  divans  arranged 
on  the  floor  around  the  walls  of  the  rooms,  and 
at  nighttime  they  spread  their  bedding  on  the 
floors.  Some  of  the  rooms  were  nicely  carpeted 
with  Mexican  rugs.  My  horse  must  have 


The  Fight  in  the  Sand  Hills          93 

thought  he  had  come  to  a  suite  of  stables,  for 
he  acted  accordingly.  He  nosed  around  after 
grain  and  hay,  whinnied  and  pawed,  and  seemed 
to  enjoy  himself  generally.  At  last  I  found  the 
right  door,  came  out  into  the  street  and 
rode  to  the  church  to  tender  my  best  wishes 
to  the  happy  couple  and  bid  them  adios.  When 
the  party  emerged  from  the  chapel  they  seemed 
to  be  very  much  surprised  at  seeing  me.  I  told 
my  host  that  I  regretted  to  leave  them  so  early  in 
the  day,  but  had  an.  appointment  to  keep  else 
where.  I  would  ride  slowly  out  of  town  so  that 
they  could  overtake  me  easily,  should  they  wish 
to  see  me  later,  but  nobody  came,  and  after  sev 
eral  hours  I  caught  up  with  my  companions. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

WITH  THE  NAVAJO  TRIBE 

AFTER  a  couple  of  days  we  came  to  Fort  Win- 
gate,  which  controls  the  Navajo  Indian  Reserva 
tion.  We  camped  here  for  a  day  to  have  some 
repair  work  done  to  our  wagons,  and  I  took  a 
stroll  over  the  hills  after  rabbits  and  returned 
to  camp  at  nightfall.  Don  Juan  told  me  that 
he  had  been  visited  by  a  number  of  Indians, 
who  had  bartered  him  some  blankets  and  buck 
skins  and  he  was  highly  pleased  thereat. 

The  next  morning  we  started  early  and 
traveled  until  noon.  Several  Indians  had  been 
following  us  for  some  time,  and  as  soon  as  we 
made  camp  they  squatted  at  our  fire,  while 
others  were  continually  arriving,  some  afoot,  but 
most  of  them  on  horseback.  Manuelito,  a 
grand-looking  chief,  rode  into  camp  on  the  fin 
est  Indian  pony  I  had  ever  seen.  It  was  beauti 
fully  caparisoned;  the  saddle,  bridle,  and  trap 
pings  were  covered  with  silver  mountings.  This 
was  by  far  the  most  gorgeously  dressed  Navajo 
I  had  ever  met.  He  wore  tight-fitting  knicker 
bockers  of  jet-black  buckskin,  which  resembled 
velvet,  with  a  double  row  of  silver  buttons,  set 


With  the  Navajo  Tribe  95 

as  close  as  possible  on  the  outward  seams,  from 
top  to  bottom.  On  his  legs  from  knee  to  ankle 
he  wore  homespun  woolen  stockings  and  his 
feet  were  covered  by  beaded  moccasins  of  yel 
low,  smoke-tanned  buckskin.  His  bright  red 
calico  shirt  was  literally  covered  with  silver 
ornaments  and  his  ears  were  pierced  with 
heavy  silver  rings,  at  least  three  inches  in  di 
ameter.  His  wrists  and  arms  were  heavy  with 
massive  silver  bracelets  and  others,  carved  from 
a  stone,  which  resembled  jade.  About  his  neck 
he  wore  strings  of  wampum  and  glass  beads, 
garnets,  and  bits  of  turquoise.  The  turquoise 
and  garnet  is  found  here  in  places  known  only 
to  these  Indians.  His  fingers  were  encircled 
by  many  rings,  but  the  finest  ornament  he  pos 
sessed  was  his  body  belt  of  great  disks  of  silver, 
the  size  of  tea  saucers.  All  this  jewelry  was  of 
a  fair  workmanship,  such  as  is  made  by  Navajo 
silversmiths  out  of  coin  silver.  In  fact,  these 
Indians  prefer  silver  to  gold  for  purposes  of 
personal  adornment.  The  blanket  which  this  In 
dian  wore  around  his  waist  was  worth  at  least 
two  hundred  dollars ;  never  have  I  seen  its  equal 
in  beauty  of  pattern  and  texture. 

The   chief   dismounted   and  withdrew  with 
Don  Juan  behind  a  wagon  for  a  talk,  as  I  pre- 


96  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

sumed.  They  reappeared  soon,  and  the  chief 
mounted  his  steed  and  cavorted  around  our  camp 
as  one  possessed.  Furiously  lashing  his  horse, 
he  scattered  our  cooking  utensils  and  acted  in 
a  most  provoking  manner  generally.  I  noticed 
then  that  the  noble  chief  was  intoxicated,  and 
when  I  questioned  Don  Juan  sharply,  he  ad 
mitted  that  he  had  given  the  Indian  some 
whiskey,  and  on  the  day  before  as  well.  I 
warned  the  Don  to  have  no  further  dealings 
with  these  Indians  and  advised  him  to  break 
camp  at  once  in  order  to  avoid  trouble.  I  in 
formed  him  also  that  he  had  committed  a  seri 
ous  crime  by  selling  liquor  to  Indians  and  that 
he  was  liable  to  be  arrested  at  any  time  should 
a  patrol  from  the  fort  happen  our  way.  As 
the  Mexican  was  frightened  now,  we  took  to  the 
road  in  a  hurry  and  traveled  until  a  late  hour 
that  night.  In  fact,  we  did  not  stop  until  the 
cattle  were  exhausted. 

Hardly  had  we  prepared  our  camp  and  were 
sitting  around  our  fire,  when  a  horde  of  Indians 
appeared,  clamoring  for  whiskey.  As  they 
were  armed  and  threatening,  Don  Juan  became 
so  terrified  that  he  climbed  to  the  interior  of  a 
wagon  to  comply  with  the  demand  of  the  sav 
ages.  When  I  saw  this,  I  drew  my  rifle  from  its 


With  the  Navajo   Tribe  97 

place  under  my  bedding  and  placed  it  in  readi 
ness.  Plainly  I  saw  Don  Juan  come  out  of  the 
wagon  with  the  mischievous  stone  jug,  as  this 
happened  in  the  bright  light  of  our  camp  fire. 
That  will  never  do,  thought  I,  and  quickly  draw 
ing  my  revolver,  I  persuaded  the  Don  to  drop 
the  jug,  incidentally  smashing  it  with  a  44  cali 
ber  bullet,  taking  care  not  to  hurt  anybody ;  and 
this  was  easily  done,  as  the  jug  was  a  large 
one,  it  held  three  gallons.  Instantaneously  I 
grabbed  my  Winchester,  and  with  my  back 
against  a  wagon  stood  ready  for  action.  The 
Indians  uttered  a  howl  of  disappointment  when 
they  saw  the  jug  collapse  and  its  precious  con 
tents  wasted,  but  were  silenced  by  an  exclama 
tion  of  their  chief.  After  an  excited  pow-wow 
between  themselves,  they  disappeared  among  the 
hills  in  the  shadows  of  the  night. 

"Muchas  gracias,  senor  Americano,"  said 
Don  Juan,  "quien  sabe?"  What  would  have  hap 
pened  if  the  Indians  had  gotten  the  liquor,  which 
I  dared  not  refuse  them;  but  I  think  this  ends 
our  troubles.  We  passed  a  sleepless  night,  and 
long  before  sunrise  Don  Juan  made  prepara 
tions  for  our  departure. 

When  the  herders  rounded  up  the  cattle,  they 
found  that  several  yoke  of  oxen  were  missing, 


98  Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

and  greatly  alarmed,  they  said  that  they  be 
lieved  the  Indians  had  stolen  them  during  the 
night.  Don  Juan  did  not  appear  to  be  very 
anxious  to  search  for  the  missing  cattle  himself, 
so  he  sent  out  the  herders  again  after  breakfast. 
They  returned  with  the  report  of  having  found 
the  tracks  of  Indians  who  had  apparently  driven 
the  cattle  toward  the  hills,  and  stated  that 
they  were  afraid  to  follow,  fearing  for  their 
lives. 

As  it  was  nearly  noon  by  this  time,  we  cooked 
our  dinner,  and  while  doing  so  were  visited 
again  by  a  number  of  the  Indians.  Don  Juan 
intimated  to  them  that  several  of  his  oxen  had 
strayed  off  during  the  night,  and  the  Navajos 
kindly  offered  to  go  in  search  of  them  for  a  re 
muneration.  They  demanded  a  stack  of  tor 
tillas  a  foot  high  and  a  sack  of  flour.  Nolens- 
volens,  squatted  Don  Mestal  before  the  fire  and 
baked  bread  for  the  wily  Indians  as  a  ransom 
for  his  cattle.  Of  course  then  the  missing  oxen 
were  soon  brought  up,  and  we  lost  no  time  in 
getting  under  way. 

Until  midnight  we  traveled,  as  Don  Juan  was 
very  anxious  to  get  away  from  the  reservation 
of  these  Indians,  which  is  seventy-five  miles 
across.  This  night  we  experienced  a  repetition 


With  the  Navajo   Tribe  99 

of  the  tactics  of  the  night  before,  as  regarded 
the  safety  of  our  herd,  but  Don  Juan  had  to  pay 
a  higher  ransom  in  the  morning.  While  we 
were  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  Indians  with 
our  lost  steers,  Chief  Manuelito  honored  us 
again  with  his  presence.  He  sat  down  at  our 
fire,  and  producing  a  greasy  deck  of  Spanish 
playing  cards,  he  challenged  Don  Juan  to  a 
game  of  monte.  That  was  an  irresistible  temp 
tation  for  my  companion.  By  the  smiling  ex 
pression  of  his  wizened  features  I  divined  that 
he  thought  he  saw  his  chance  for  revenge. 
Manuelito  undoubtedly  had  a  strain  of  sporting 
blood  in  his  veins,  as  he  offered  to  stake  his 
horses,  blankets,  squaws,  and  everything  he  had 
against  the  Mexican's  wagons  and  cargo.  I 
warned  Don  Juan  to  have  a  care,  as  I  knew  the 
cunning  of  the  Navajo  tribe,  having  dealt  with 
them  before,  and  advised  him  to  play  the  traps 
he  had  bought  from  them  with  liquor  against 
a  chipper  little  squaw  who  was  richly  dressed 
and  had  come  with  Chief  Manuelito,  mounted 
on  a  white  pony.  I  believed  her  to  be  the  chief's 
daughter.  When  she  understood  the  import  of 
the  conversation,  she  looked  haughtily  and  in  a 
disdainful  manner  at  Don  Juan,  but  appeared 
to  be  pleased  with  me  and  eyed  me  with  symp- 


ioo         Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

toms  of  curiosity.  Of  course,  I  expected  her  to 
defy  Don  Juan  to  take  her,  and  simply  ride  off 
in  case  he  should  win  the  game.  At  any  rate, 
I  meant  to  take  her  under  my  protection,  if 
necessary,  and  send  her  home  to  her  people.  In 
fact,  the  liquor  which  Don  Juan  had  sold  these 
Indians  had  belonged  to  me  and  had  been  pre 
sented  to  me  by  a  friend  as  an  antidote  for  pos 
sible  snake  bites  on  the  road  to  Arizona. 

The  gambling  began,  and  my  Mexican  com 
panions  became  so  engrossed  in  the  enjoyment 
of  their  alluring  national  game  of  monte  that 
they  forgot  everything  else.  The  drivers  were 
as  interested  as  their  employer  and  bet  the  poor 
trinkets  they  possessed  on  the  result  of  the  game. 
There  arrived  more  Indians  continually,  and  I 
observed  a  familiar  face  amongst  these  and  saw 
that  I  myself  was  recognized.  The  game  was 
ended  as  I  had  foreseen,  with  Don  Juan  as  the 
loser.  He  was  an  easy  prey  for  these  Indians, 
who  are  as  full  of  tricks  as  the  ocean  is  of  water. 

Then  Chief  Manuelito,  who  was  highly 
elated  with  his  victory  over  the  Mexican,  chal 
lenged  me  to  a  game  in  a  very  overbearing  and 
provoking  manner.  I  replied  that  I  despised 
the  game  of  monte,  which  was  perhaps  good 
enough  for  Mexicans  and  Indians,  but  was  de- 


With  the  Navajo  Tribe  101 

cided  by  chance;  I  boasted  that  I  was  ready  to 
bet  anything  I  had  on  my  skill  at  shooting  with 
the  rifle,  and  challenged  him  and  his  whole  tribe 
to  the  sport  which  was  worthy  of  men,  a  shoot 
ing  match.  I  think  Manuelito  would  have 
accepted  my  challenge  without  hesitation  and  in 
great  glee  if  he  had  not  been  restrained  by  the 
Indian  whom  I  have  mentioned  before  as  having 
just  arrived  and  recognized  me.  This  Indian 
said  something  to  the  chief,  which  seemed  to 
interest  and  excite  them  all.  Chief  Manuelito 
advanced,  and  extending  his  hand  in  greeting, 
said  that  he  had  often  wished  to  meet  me,  the 
wizard  who  had  beaten  the  champion  marksman 
of  the  Navajo  tribe. 

Several  years  before  I  had  in  the  town  of 
Cubero,  at  the  request  of  Mexican  friends,  shot 
a  target  match  with  the  most  renowned  marks 
man  of  the  Navajo  tribe,  my  pistol  being  pitted 
against  the  Navajo's  rifle,  and  had  beaten  him 
with  a  wonderful  shot  to  the  discomfiture  and 
distress  of  a  trading  band  of  Indians,  who  bet 
on  their  champion's  prowess  and  lost  their  goods 
to  the  knowing  Mexicans. 

The  chief  then  requested  me  to  favor  them 
with  an  exhibition  of  my  skill.  I  readily  as 
sented  and  directed  them  to  put  up  a  target. 


IO2         Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

They  placed  a  flat  rock  against  the  trunk  of  a 
pine  tree  at  so  great  a  distance  that  it  was  barely 
distinguishable  to  the  naked  eye.  I  guessed  at 
the  distance  and  my  shot  fell  just  below  the 
mark.  Then  I  raised  the  hind  sight  of  my  Win 
chester  a  notch  and  the  next  shot  shattered  the 
stone  to  pieces.  At  this  the  Indians  went  wild. 
They  had  thought  it  impossible  for  any  man  to 
perform  this  feat  of  marksmanship,  and  were 
most  enthusiastic  in  the  profession  of  their 
admiration.  Gladly  would  they  have  adopted 
me  into  their  tribe  as  a  great  chief  or  medicine 
man  had  I  wished  to  ally  myself  to  them.  There 
was  the  opportunity  of  a  lifetime,  but  I  did  not 
embrace  it. 

As  the  sun  was  now  low  in  the  heavens,  I  ad 
vised  Don  Juan  to  remain  in  camp  for  the  night 
and  spoke  to  Chief  Manuelito,  expressing  my 
wish  to  pass  through  his  country  unmolested  and 
without  delay.  The  chief  assured  me  of  his  pro 
tection  and  bade  us  have  no  care.  We  slept 
soundly  that  night,  a  band  of  Indians  guarding 
our  camp  and  herd  under  orders  of  Manuelito, 
who  had  become  my  stanch  friend  and  admirer. 
The  following  day  we  came  to  the  end  of  the 
reservation  and  soon  crossed  the  boundary  line 
of  New  Mexico  into  Arizona. 


CHAPTER  IX 

IN  ARIZONA 

I  left  New  Mexico  with  the  intention  of  mak 
ing  Los  Angeles  in  the  golden  State  my  future 
home,  and  now,  thirty  years  later,  I  have  not 
reached  there  yet.  Vainly  have  I  tried  to  break 
the  thraldom  of  my  fate,  for  I  did  not  know 
that  here  I  was  to  meet  face  to  face  with  the 
mighty  mystery  of  an  ancient  cult,  the  God  of 
a  long-forgotten  civilization,  a  psychic  power 
which  has  ordered  my  path  in  life  and  controlled 
my  actions. 

As  its  servant,  at  its  bidding,  I  write  this,  and 
shall  now  unfold,  and  in  the  course  of  this  nar 
rative  give  to  the  world  a  surprising  revelation 
of  the  power  of  ancient  Aztec  idols,  which  would 
be  incredible  in  the  light  of  our  twentieth  cen 
tury  of  Christian  civilization  if  it  were  not  sus 
tained  by  the  evidence  of  undeniable  facts. 

Our  road  led  through  a  hilly  country  toward 
the  Little  Colorado  River.  In  the  distance 
loomed  the  San  Francisco  Mountains,  extinct 
craters  which  had  belched  fire  and  lava  long, 


IO4         Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

long  ago  at  the  birth  of  Arizona,  when  the  earth 
was  still  in  the  travail  of  creation.  We  forded 
the  Little  Colorado  at  Sunset  Crossing,  a  lonely 
colony,  where  a  few  Mormons  were  the  only 
inhabitants  of  a  vast  area  of  wilderness.  We 
were  headed  due  west  toward  a  mesa  rising  ab 
ruptly  from  the  plateau  which  we  were  then 
traversing.  This  mesa  was  again  capped  by  a 
chain  of  lofty  peaks,  one  of  the  Mogollon  moun 
tain  ranges.  We  ascended  the  towering  mesa 
through  the  difficult  Chavez  pass,  which  is 
named  after  its  discoverer,  the  noted  Mexican, 
Colonel  Francisco  Chavez,  who  may  be  remem 
bered  as  a  representative  in  Congress  of  the 
United  States,  for  the  Territory  of  New  Mexico. 
A  day's  heavy  toil  brought  us  to  the  summit  of 
the  mesa,  which  was  a  beautiful  place,  but  un 
speakably  lonesome.  This  wonderful  highland 
is  a  malpais  or  lava  formation  and  densely  cov 
ered  with  a  forest  of  stately  pines  and  mountain 
juniper.  Strange  to  say,  vegetation  thrives  in 
credibly  in  the  rocky  lava ;  a  knee-high  growth 
of  the  most  nutritious  grama  grasses,  indigent 
to  this  region,  rippled  in  the  breeze  like  waves 
of  a  golden  sea  and  we  saw  numerous  signs  of 
deer,  antelope,  and  turkey.  Our  road,  a  mere 


In  Arizona  105, 

trail,  wound  over  this  plateau,  which  was  a 
veritable  impenetrable  jungle  in  places,  a  part 
of  the  great  Coconino  forest.  Think  and  won 
der!  An  unbroken  forest  of  ten  thousand 
square  miles,  it  is  said  to  be  the  most  extensive 
woodland  on  the  face  of  the  globe.  This  trail 
was  the  worst  road  to  travel  I  have  seen  or  ex 
pect  ever  to  pass  over.  The  wagons  moved  as 
ships  tossed  on  a  stormy  sea,  chuck !  chuck !  from 
boulder  to  boulder,  without  intermittence.  We 
found  delicious  spring  water  about  noon  and 
passed  a  most  remarkable  place  later  in  the  day. 
This  must  have  been  the  pit  of  a  volcano.  A 
few  steps  aside  from  the  road  you  might  lean 
over  the  precipice  and  look  straight  down  into 
a  great,  round  crater,  so  deep  that  it  made  a 
person  dizzy.  At  the  bottom  there  was  a  ranch 
house,  a  small  lake  and  a  cultivated  field,  the 
whole  being  apparently  ten  acres  in  area.  I 
looked  straight  down  on  a  man  who  was  walk 
ing  near  the  house  and  appeared  no  larger  than 
a  little  doll  and  his  dog  seemed  to  be  the  size 
of  a  grasshopper,  but  we  heard  the  dog  bark 
and  heard  the  cackling  of  hens  quite  plainly. 
On  one  side  of  this  pit  there  was  a  break  in  the 
formation,  which  made  this  curious  place  ac 
cessible  by  trail. 


106         Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

We  had  been  advised  that  we  would  find  a 
natural  tank  of  rain  water  in  the  vicinity  of  this 
place  and  camped  there  at  nightfall.  We  turned 
our  stock  out,  but  our  herders  did  not  find  the 
promised  water.  Our  cook  reported  that  there 
was  not  a  drop  of  water  in  camp,  as  the  spigot 
of  his  water  tank  had  been  loosened  by  the 
roughness  of  the  road  and  all  the  water  was  lost. 
Now  this  would  have  been  a  matter  of  small 
consequence  if  Don  Juan  had  not  been  taken 
ill  suddenly.  He  threw  himself  on  the  ground 
and  cried  for  water.  "Agua,por  Dios!"  (Water, 
for  God's  sake)  he  cried,  "or  I  shall  die." 
"Why,  Don  Juan,"  I  said,  "there  is  no  water 
here.  I  advise  you  to  wait  till  moonrise  when 
the  cattle  are  rested  and  then  leave  for  the  next 
watering  place,  which  is  Beaver  Head,  at  the 
foot  of  the  mesa;  we  ought  to  reach  there 
about  ten  o'clock  to-morrow  morning.  Surely 
until  then  you  can  endure  a  little  thirst!" 
"Amigo,  I  cannot,  I  am  dying,"  moaned  Don 
Juan,  in  great  distress.  As  I  suspected  that  he 
had  lost  his  nerve  on  the  Navajo  reservation,  I 
felt  greatly  annoyed,  and  when  he  became 
frantic  in  his  cries  I  promised  to  go  down  to 
Beaver  Creek  to  get  him  a  drink  of  water, 


In  'Arizona  107 

for  I  recalled  to  mind  his  little  daughter  who 
bid  me  farewell  with  these  words:  "Adios,  Senor 
Americano,  I  charge  you  with  the  care  of  my 
padredto.  If  you  promise  me,  I  know  that  he 
will  return  to  me  safely." 

I  set  out  on  my  long  night-walk,  stumbling 
over  rocks  and  boulders  in  the  darkness.  It  was 
a  beautiful  night,  the  crisp  atmosphere  was 
laden  with  the  fragrant  exhalation  of  the  nut 
pines  and  junipers  and  there  was  not  a  breath 
of  air  stirring.  I  got  down  to  water  at  mid 
night,  the  time  of  moonrise,  filled  my  canteen 
and  started  on  the  return  trip.  Slowly  I  re- 
ascended  the  steep  mesa,  and  when  I  reached  the 
summit  I  sat  down  on  a  rock  in  a  thicket  of  juni 
pers.  The  moon  had  now  risen  above  the  trees 
and  cast  its  dim  light  over  an  enchanting  scene. 
The  sense  of  utter  loneliness,  a  homesickness,  a 
feeling  of  premonition,  stole  over  me,  and 
weirdly  I  sensed  the  presence  of  I  knew  not 
what.  From  the  shadows  spoke  an  owl,  sadly, 
anxiously,  "Hoo,  hoo!  Where  are  you?  You!" 
and  his  mate  answered  him  tenderly,  seductively, 
"Tee,  hee!  Come  to  me!  Me!" 

In  the  west,  far,  far  away,  clustered  a  range 
of  mountains,  spread  out  like  an  enormous  horse- 


io8         Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

shoe  and  in  its  center  arose  the  form  of  a  soli 
tary  hill.  In  the  heavens  from  the  east  drifted  a 
white,  ragged  cloud.  The  solitary  hill  seemed 
to  rise  high  and  higher  and  all  the  mountains 
bowed  before  it.  The  spectral  cloud  resolved 
itself  into  a  terrible  vision  which  enveloped  the 
central  hill.  Great  Heavens!  Again  I  saw  the 
phantom  dog  and  fancied  that  I  heard  shrill 
screams  of  "Perro,  perro,  gringo  perro!"  A 
crackling  noise,  a  coming  shadow,  and  forward 
I  fell  on  my  face,  ever  on  the  alert,  ever  ready. 
An  unearthly  yell  and  a  great  body  flew  over, 
fierce  claws  grazing  me.  Two  balls  of  fire  shone 
in  the  bush,  but  my  rifle  cracked  and  a  great 
lion  fell  in  its  tracks.  I  expected  my  companions 
to  meet  me  soon,  coming  my  way.  Instead,  I 
found  them,  after  my  all-night's  walk,  snugly 
camped  where  I  had  left  them.  Don  Juan  ex 
plained  that  with  God's  favor  they  had  found 
the  water  soon  after  I  had  left  them.  He  said 
that  they  had  called  loud  and  long  after  me,  but 
I  did  not  seem  to  hear. 

This  day  we  descended  the  mesa  and  entered 
the  valley  of  the  Verde  River,  one  of  Arizona's 
permanent  water  courses.  This  valley  is  culti 
vated  for  at  least  forty  miles  from  its  source  to 


In  'Arizona  109 

where  it  enters  precipitous  mountains.  We 
forded  the  crystal  waters  of  the  river  at  Camp 
Verde,  an  army  post,  and  crossed  another  range 
of  mountains  and  several  valleys  into  a  com 
paratively  open  country,  and  on  the  night  of  a 
day  late  in  November  we  camped  on  Lynx  Creek 
and  were  then  within  a  half  day's  travel  of  our 
destination. 


CHAPTER  X 

AT  THE  SHRINE  OF  A  "SPHINX  OF  AZTLAN" 

NOT  a  drop  of  rain  had  fallen  on  us  since  we 
left  the  Rio  Grande,  the  days  were  as  summer 
in  a  northern  climate,  but  the  nights  were  quite 
chill,  the  effect  of  an  altitude  of  five  thousand 
feet  above  sea  level.  The  country  had  lost  its 
appearance  of  loneliness,  for  we  passed  several 
parties  of  miners  and  heard  the  heavy  booming 
of  giant  powder  at  intervals,  and  from  various 
directions  all  through  the  day. 

We  were  joined  by  a  jolly  party  of  miners 
who  were  eager  for  news  and  camped 
with  us  over  night.  There  were  three 
men  in  this  outfit.  Keen-looking,  hearty  old 
chaps  with  ruddy  faces  and  gray  beards,  they 
looked  like  men  who  are  continually  prospecting 
for  the  "main  chance."  I  passed  a  delightful 
evening  in  their  company.  They  said  they  owned 
rich  silver  mines  farther  up  on  Lynx  Creek,  and 
had  come  out  from  town  to  perform  the  annual 
assessment  work  on  their  claims,  as  prescribed 
by  the  laws  of  the  United  States,  in  order  to  hold 
possession  and  perfect  legal  title  to  the  ground. 


Shrine  of  a  "Sphinx  of  Aztlan"        in 

As  I  was  not  versed  in  matters  pertaining  to 
mines,  I  asked  why  they  did  not  work  their 
mines  continually  for  the  silver.  They  ex 
plained  that  they  could  not  work  to  good  ad 
vantage  for  lack  of  transportation  facilities 
which  made  it  very  difficult  and  costly  to  bring 
in  machinery  for  developing  their  prospects  into 
mines.  Therefore,  until  the  advent  of  rail 
roads  they  chose  to  perform  their  annual  assess 
ment  work  only. 

Two  of  these  gentlemen  were  substantial  busi 
ness  men   and  the  other  was    their    confiden 
tial    secretary    or    affidavit    man.      It    was   his 
duty  to  make  an  affidavit   before  a    magistrate 
that  his  employers  had  performed  the  labor  re 
quired  by  law,  which  is  not  less  than  one  hun 
dred  dollars  per  claim  and  incidentally  he  cooked 
for  the  outfit  and  attended  to  the  horses.     Of 
course,  they  might  have  hired  mine  laborers 
to  do  this  work,  but  they  said  they  enjoyed 
the    outing    and    exercise,    especially    as    this 
was    the    time    of    house    cleaning    and     they 
were  glad  to  get  away  from  home.     "Yes,"  af 
firmed   the   affidavit  man,    "and  so   are  your 
wives." 

These  gentlemen  rode  horses  and  carried  a  ' 
supply  of  provisions  on  a  pack  mule.    The  most 


112         Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

conspicuous  object  of  their  pack  was  a  keg 
labelled  "dynamite."  When  the  clerk  placed 
this  dangerous  thing  near  the  fire  and  sat  on  it, 
I  became  fidgety,  but  was  reassured  when  sub 
sequently  I  saw  him  draw  the  stopper  and  fill  a 
bottle  labelled  "Old  Crow"  from  it.  They 
advised  me  to  go  prospecting  and  gave  me  much 
valuable  information  and  kindly  offered  to  sell 
me  a  prospecting  outfit,  "for  cash,"  at  their 
stores. 

As  we  were  chatting,  I  became  aware  of  a 
delicious,  pungent  odor,  like  the  perfume  of 
orange  blossoms.  "Is  it  possible,"  said  I,  as 
tonished,  "that  there  are  orange  groves  in  bloom 
in  this  vicinity?"  The  old  gentlemen  said  they 
did  not  smell  anything  wrong,  but  the  clerk 
jumped  to  his  feet  and  sniffed  the  air  in  the  di 
rection  of  Prescott.  "Why,  gentlemen,"  said 
he,  "of  course,  you  cannot  smell  any  further  than 
the  blossoms  on  the  tips  of  your  noses,  but  the 
young  man  has  a  sharp  proboscis,  he  scents  the 
girls.  Here  comes  Dan  bound  for  the  Silver 
Bell  Mine  with  his  blooming  show."  We  heard 
the  clatter  of  hoofs  and  wheels  and  saw  a  large 
coach  pass  by,  crowded  with  passengers,  mostly 
ladies.  The  clerk  said  that  the  genial  owner  of 
the  Silver  Bell  Mine,  who  was  also  the  pro- 


Shrine  of  a  "Sphinx  of  Aztlan"       113 

prietor  of  a  popular  resort  in  town,  was  going 
out  to  pay  his  miners  their  monthly  wage. 
"That  is  it,"  said  one  of  the  merchants,  "and 
to  keep  the  boys  from  leaving  the  mine  in  order 
to  spend  their  money  at  his  resort  in  town,  he 
takes  his  variety  show  out  there.  He  cannot 
afford  to  have  his  mine  shut  down  just  now,  as 
they  have  struck  horn  silver,  and  that  is  the  kind 
of  tin  he  needs  in  his  business." 

These  kind  old  gentlemen  cautioned  me  to 
keep  away  from  a  dark-looking,  broken  moun 
tain,  looming  to  the  north.  "That  country  is 
no  good,"  they  said;  "there  is  nothing  but  cop 
per  there,  even  the  water  is  poisoned  with  it." 
Those  were  the  black  hills  where  there  is  now 
the  prosperous  town  of  Jerome  and  one  of  the 
great  mines  of  the  earth,  the  famous  United 
Verde  Mine,  the  property  of  Senator  William 
Clark. 

The  following  day,  about  noon,  we  rounded 
a  sharp  bend  of  the  road  and  Fort  Whipple 
and  the  town  of  Prescott  came  into  view.  A 
pretty  and  gratifying  sight  truly,  but  imagine  my 
astonishment !  Here  to  the  right  was  the 
identical  mysterious  hill  which  I  had  seen  in 
that  memorable  night  from  the  height  of  the 
Mogollon  mesa  and  behind  it  was  the  black 


114         Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

range,  the  Sierra  Prieta,  which  had  formed  a 
part  of  the  encircling  horseshoe. 

Never  in  my  lifetime  have  I  come  to  a  town 
where  the  people  were  as  hospitable  and  kindly 
disposed  toward  strangers  as  here.  It  is  no  won 
der  that  I  got  no  farther,  for  here  the  people  vied 
with  each  other  to  welcome  the  wayfarer  to  the 
gates  of  their  city.  The  town  was  then  young 
and  isolated.  The  inhabitants  had  come  by 
teams  or  horseback  from  as  far  away  as  the 
State  of  Kansas,  where  the  nearest  railway  con 
nection  was  eastward,  or  from  California,  via 
Yuma  and  Ehrenberg  on  the  Colorado  River. 
Stages  and  freight  teams  made  regular  trips 
across  the  arid  desert  to  Ehrenberg.  The  first 
settlers  of  this  region  came  from  California  in 
search  of  gold.  They  first  found  it  in  the  sands 
of  the  Hassayampa,  which  is  born  of  mighty 
Mount  Union,  the  mother  of  four  living  streams. 
From  its  deathbed  in  the  hot  sands  of  the  desert, 
they  traced  the  precious  waters  to  its  source. 
Gold  they  found  in  plenty  with  hardship  and  pri 
vation.  They  encountered  a  band  of  hostile  In 
dians,  and  hardest  to  bear,  a  loneliness  made 
sufferable  only  by  the  illusive  phantasies  of  the 
golden  fever.  Their  expectations  realized,  the 
majority  of  these  pioneers  returned  to  the 


Shrine  of  a  "Sphinx  of  Aztlan"       115 

Golden  State  and  civilization  with  the  burden 
of  their  treasure,  saying  they  had  not  come  to 
Arizona  for  their  health.  Now  in  these  present 
days  there  comes  a  throng  of  people  in  quest  of 
health  solely,  and  many  are  they  who  find  its 
blessing  in  the  sunny  and  bracing  air  of  this 
climate,  in  hot  springs  and  the  balmy  breath  of 
the  fir  and  juniper  of  our  mountains. 

I  found  employment  in  a  mercantile  establish 
ment  of  this  little  mining  town  and  grew  up  with 
the  country,  as  the  saying  is.  I  formed  new  ac 
quaintances  and  made  new  friends.  Among 
others,  I  met  William  Owen  O'Neill.  I  cannot 
now  remember  the  exact  time  or  year.  At 
tracted  by  the  light-hearted,  cheerful,  and  dare 
devil  spirit  of  this  ambitious  and  cultured  young 
man,  I  joined  a  military  organization,  of  which 
he  was  then  a  lieutenant  and  later  the  captain, 
this  was  Company  F  of  Prescott  Grays,  Na 
tional  Guard  of  Arizona.  Poor,  noble-hearted, 
generous  Buckie — he  knew  it  not,  but  this  was 
his  first  step  on  the  path  of  glory  leading  to  the 
altar  of  patriotism  whereon  he  laid  his  life.  It 
was  he  who,  with  a  poet's  inspiration,  first  di 
vined  the  mystery  of  the  mountain  which  I  have 
before  alluded  to.  He  likened  this  beautiful 
mound  to  a  sleeping  lion  who  guarded  the  des- 


1 1 6        Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  'Aztlan 

tinies  of  the  mountain  city.  Poor  friend,  his 
glorious  song  stirred  the  dormant  life  in  the  me 
tallic  veins  of  the  Butte  and,  wonder  of  won 
ders,  the  sleeping  lion  awoke,  the  poet's  lay  had 
brought  the  Sphinx  to  life — the  die  of  fate 
was  cast  and  he  had  sealed  his  doom ! 
When  I  read  his  beautiful  poem,  I  gasped  in 
wonder,  for  only  I  on  earth  fathomed  the 
significance  of  this  revelation.  This  dream  of 
a  poet's  fanciful  soul,  soaring  on  the  wings 
of  Pegasus,  was  stern  reality  to  me  and  anxiously 
I  awaited  developments.  Nor  waited  I  in  vain. 
The  grateful  Sphinx  showered  honor  and 
wealth  upon  my  friend.  The  generous  sportive 
boy,  who  cared  naught  for  gold,  actually 
grew  rich,  for  the  Sphinx  had  granted  him  the 
most  lucrative  office  in  the  county,  the  people 
made  him  their  sheriff.  He  rose  step  by  step 
to  the  highest  place  of  honor  in  the  community 
until  he  became  the  mayor  of  Prescott.  Not 
satisfied  with  this  token  of  its  favor,  the  Sphinx 
rewarded  him  in  a  most  extraordinary  and  con 
vincing  manner.  By  the  help  of  nature,  its  help 
meet,  it  transformed  a  great  deposit  of  siliceous 
limestone  into  beautiful  onyx  and  painted  it  in 
all  the  colors  and  after  the  pattern  of  the  rain 
bow.  This  magnificent  gift  made  Captain 


Shrine  of  a  "Sphinx  of  Aztlan"        117, 

O'Neill  independently  rich,  but  it  is  a  fact  that 
as  soon  as  it  passed  from  his  hands,  the  stone 
lost  in  value  and  no  one  has  since  profited  from  it. 
I  believe  that  our  hero  would  have  risen  to  the 
highest  position  of  dignity  on  earth,  the  Presi 
dency  of  the  United  States,  if  he  had  not  unwit 
tingly  aroused  the  jealousy  of  the  terrible 
heathen  god.  When  he  chose  a  wife  from 
the  lovely  maidens  of  Prescott,  then  the 
vengeful  Sphinx  laid  its  sinister  plans  for  his 
undoing,  for  it  is  in  the  nature  of  cats,  small  or 
great,  to  be  exceedingly  jealous.  The  furious 
idol  remembered  the  people  of  a  long  forgotten 
race,  its  loyal  subjects,  who  had  reared  and  wor 
shiped  it,  inconceivably  long  ago,  when  the 
Grand  Canyon  of  Arizona  was  but  a  tiny  ra 
vine  and  before  icy  avalanches  had  ground  the 
rocks  at  the  Dells  into  boulders.  It  remembered 
the  descendants  of  its  subjects,  the  Aztec  Indians. 
It  remembered  how  the  Spaniards  had  cruelly 
broken  the  Aztec  nation.  Through  the  sub 
tle  influence  of  psychic  forces,  it  stirred  up 
a  passion  of  hate  for  Spain  in  the  hearts 
of  the  people  of  the  United  States,  and  it 
fostered  the  awful  spirit  of  strife,  and  at  the 
right  moment  it  let  loose  the  dogs  of  war.  One 
convulsive  touch  of  its  rocky  claws  on  the  hidden 


1 1 8         Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

currents  coursing  in  earth's  veins  and  an  evil 
spark  fired  the  fatal  mine  under  the  battleship 
Maine,  in  the  harbor  of  Havana. 

"Is  this  possible;  can  this  be  true?"  If  not, 
why  is  it  that  at  the  call  to  arms,  even  before 
the  nation  rallied  from  the  shock  of  the  cow 
ardly  deed  which  sacrificed  the  lives  of  inoffen 
sive  sailors — why  is  it,  I  say,  that  from  under 
the  very  paws  of  the  Sphinx,  so  far  away  in 
Arizona — and  at  the  call  of  Captain  O'Neill, 
the  noble  mayor  of  Prescott,  there  arose  the  first 
contingent  of  fighting  volunteers  in  our  war  with 
Spain?  The  inexorable  Sphinx  had  resolved  to 
grant  to  our  beloved  and  honored  friend  its  last 
and  most  exalted  gift,  a  hero's  death  on  the  field 
of  battle.  It  has  graven  the  name  of  Prescott, 
the  city  of  the  Sphinx,  on  scrolls  of  everlasting 
fame,  as  the  town  which  rallied  first  to  the  call 
of  the  President  and  as  the  only  town  which 
gave  the  life  of  its  mayor,  its  first,  its  most  hon 
ored  citizen,  to  the  nation. 

On  the  isle  of  Cuba,  in  the  battle  of  San  Juan 
Hill,  fell  the  gallant  Captain  William  Owen 
O'Neill  of  the  regiment  of  Rough  Riders. 
Peace  to  his  ashes! 

I  have  been  told  the  circumstances  surround 
ing  his  death  by  friends,  who  were  soldiers  of  his 


Shrine  of  a  "Sphinx  of  Aztlan"        119 

company.  They  were  lying  under  cover  behind 
every  available  shelter  to  dodge  a  hailstorm  of 
Mauser  bullets,  awaiting  the  order  to  advance. 
Captain  O'Neill  exposed  himself  and  was  in 
stantly  killed.  How  could  he  avoid  it?  How 
could  it  have  been  otherwise?  What  can  keep 
an  Irishman  down  in  the  ditch  when  bullets  are 
flying  in  air,  "murmuring  dirges"  and  "shells 
are  shrieking  requiems?  You  may  readily 
imagine  an  Irishman  on  the  firing  line,  poking 
his  head  above  the  ground,  exclaiming:  "Did 
yez  see  that?  And  where  did  that  Dago  pill 
come  from  now  ?  Shure  it  spoke  Spanish,  but  it 
did  not  hit  me  at  all,  at  all,  Begorra!" 

The  activity  of  the  Sphinx  ended  not  with 
the  battle  of  San  Juan  Hill,  for  it  cast  the  luster 
of  its  glorious  power  on  the  gallant  Lieutenant 
Colonel  of  the  famous  regiment  of  Rough  Rid 
ers,  Theodore  Roosevelt,  and  on  him  it  conferred 
in  time  the  greatest  honor  to  be  achieved  on  earth, 
it  made  him  President  of  the  United  States  of 
America.  Not  knowing  it,  perhaps,  he  still  is  at 
the  time  of  this  writing  in  the  sphere  of  influence 
and  in  the  power  of  the  Sphinx  and  is  doing  its 
bidding.  Else  why  should  he,  as  is  well  known, 
favor  the  jointure  of  New  Mexico  and  Arizona 


I2O         Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

into  one  State?  Surely  the  loyal  subjects  of  the 
Sphinx,  the  Pueblo  Indians  of  Aztec  blood,  live 
mostly  in  New  Mexico,  and  the  cunning  idol 
plans  to  deliver  them  out  of  the  hands  of  the 
Spanish  Mexicans,  and  place  them  under  the 
protection  and  care  of  the  Americans  of  Ari 
zona,  knowing  full  well  that  the  Anglo-Saxon 
blood  will  rule. 

Every  miner  and  prospector  of  Arizona 
knows  that  there  have  been,  and  are  found 
to  this  day  nuggets  of  pure  gold  and  silver 
on  the  summit  of  barren  hills,  in  localities 
and  under  geological  conditions  which  are  not 
to  be  reckoned  as  possible  natural  phenomena. 
Whence  came  the  golden  nuggets  on  the  sum> 
mit  of  Rich  Hill  at  Weaver,  where  a  party 
of  men  gathered  two  hundred  thousand 
dollars  worth  in  a  week's  time  ?  Whence  came 
the  isolated  great  chunk  of  silver  at  Turkey 
Creek,  valued  at  many  thousands?  The  wisest 
professor  of  geology  and  expert  of  mines  can 
not  explain  it.  This,  I  say,  is  the  gold  and  sil 
ver  from  ornaments  employed  in  temples  of  the 
idols  of  ancient  races,  who  lived  unthinkable 
thousands  of  years  ago.  The  very  stones  of 
their  temples  have  crumbled  and  been  decom- 


Shrine  of  a  "Sphinx  of  Aztlan"        121 

posed,  but  the  precious  metal  has  been  formed 
into  nuggets,  according  to  the  natural  laws  of 
molecular  attraction,  and  under  the  impulse  of 
gravity  and  in  obedience  to  the  laws  of  affinity 
of  matter. 

People  from  Prescott  in  their  rambles  in  the 
vicinity  of  Thumb  Butte  have  probably  noticed 
a  slag  pile  as  comes  from  a  furnace.  I  have 
heard  them  theorize  and  argue  on  the  question 
of  its  origin  or  use,  as  there  is  not  a  sign 
of  ore  in  existence  thereabouts  to  indicate  a 
smelting  furnace.  I  say  this  was  an  altar  erected 
by  the  ancient  worshipers  to  their  idol,  the 
Sphinx.  Before  it  stood  the  awful  sacrifi 
cial  stone,  whereon  quivered  the  bodies  of  vic 
tims  while  priests  tore  open  their  breasts  and 
offered  their  throbbing  hearts  in  the  sacred 
fire  on  the  altar,  a  sacrifice  to  their  cruel  god. 
Many  prospectors  have  undoubtedly  traced 
a  blood  red  vein  of  rock  coursing  from  this 
place  toward  Willow  Creek — a  valuable  lode 
of  cinnabar,  they  must  have  thought.  If 
they  had  tested  the  ore  for  quicksilver,  they 
would  have  received  discouraging  results.  Por 
phyry  stained  with  an  unknown  petrified  sub 
stance  and  without  a  trace  of  metal  invariably 
read  the  analytical  assays. 


i!22         Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

This  is  the  innocent,  petrified  blood  of  victims 
which  stained  a  ledge  of  porphyry  when  it  ran 
down  the  mountain  side  in  torrents,  an  awful 
sacrifice  to  the  ancient  idols  of  lust  and  igno 
rance.  A  kindly  warning  to  you,  fellow-pros 
pectors  and  miners,  who  delve  in  the  vitals  of 
Mother  Earth !  Beware  Thumb  Butte,  beware 
the  district  of  the  Sphinx !  Have  a  care,  for  you 
know  not  what  you  may  encounter  in  this  mystic 
neighborhood!  Shun  strange  gods  and  set  up 
no  idols  in  your  hearts,  as  you  value  the  salva 
tion  of  your  souls.  But  if  your  mine  lies  in  this 
district,  be  fearful  not  to  excite  the  anger  of  the 
gnomes  of  the  mountain.  Charge  lightly,  lest 
you  blast  the  bottom  out  of  your  mine.  Disturb 
not  the  slumber  of  the  spirits  of  the  hills  lest 
they  throw  a  horse  into  the  shaft  and  push 
your  pay-ore  down  a  thousand  feet. 

Now,  I  who  am  what  I  am,  a  servant  of  the 
Sphinx,  have  erected  the  shrine  of  my  household 
gods  in  the  beautiful  town,  which  lies  in  its 
shadow  and  is  held  in  its  paw.  Even  now  is  the 
Sphinx  weaving  on  the  web  of  my  destiny.  I 
hope  I  may  be  spared  the  cumbersome  burden  of 
the  wealth  of  a  Rockefeller,  who  is  said  to  pos- 


Shrine  of  a  "Sphinx  of  Aztlan"       123 

sess  a  billion  dollars  for  every  hair  on  his  head. 
One  thousandth  part  of  his  wealth  would  suffice 
to  reward  me  amply. 

I  received  a  message  in  a  dream,  in  a  vision 
of  the  night,  a  promise  from  the  Sphinx.  I 
fancied  that  I  was  on  Lynx  Creek,  sitting  on  the 
windlass  at  the  shaft  of  my  silver  mine.  This 
mine  is  within  a  mile  of  the  place  where 
we  had  camped  and  met  the  party  of  miners.  I 
had  worked  the  mine  with  profit  until  I  met, 
through  no  fault  of  mine,  with  a  fault  in  the  mine 
and  encountered  a  horse  in  the  formation  which 
faulted  the  ground  in  such  a  manner  as  to  inter 
rupt  the  pay  chute  and  to  make  further  work 
unprofitable. 

\Vhile  I  sat  there,  lighting  my  pipe  and  bless 
ing  my  luck,  I  saw  a  black  tomcat  come 
along  and  jump  my  claim.  As  I  have  always  de 
tested  claim  jumpers,  I  threw  a  rock  at  him  and 
with  an  uncanny  mee-ow  and  bristling  tail  he  dis 
appeared  down  the  mine.  When  I  went  to  the 
spot  where  he  had  scratched,  after  the  fashion 
of  cats,  probably  preparing  to  build  his  location 
monument  and  place  his  notice,  I  was  thunder-, 
struck  to  see  that  the  rock  I  had  thrown  at  him 


124        Wooed  by  a  Sphinx  of  Aztlan 

had  been  transformed  into  a  chunk  of  pure  gold. 
Surely  where  that  cat  jumped 
into  the  mine,  there  lies  a  bonanza,  there  shall 
I  sink  to  the  water  level. 

From   the  time    of    my    youth    have    I    al 
ways     possessed     great    bodily     strength    and 
physical  endurance,  combined  with  good  health, 
and     now,     I     am,    if    anything,     stronger     in 
body     than '  ever     and      am      blessed      with 
the     identical     passions     and    thoughts    I    har 
bored   in   the   days  of  my  youth.     To  me  this 
signifies  that  my  life's  real  task  is  now  beginning, 
the  Sphinx  is  fitting  me  for  glorious  work.  What 
and  where,  I  care  not;  but  ambitious  hope  leads 
me  on,  past  wealth  and  power  to  visions  of  a 
temple  of  divine,  pictorial  art.     Fain  would  I 
guide  my  light,  frivolous  thoughts  long  enough 
into  the  calm  channels  of  serious  reflection  to  bid 
you,  my  kind  readers,  a  dignified  farewell  and 
express  the  sincere  hope  that,  when  we  have 
prospected  life's  mortal  vein  to  the  end  of  time 
and  our  souls  soar  on  the  last  blast  of  Gabriel's 
trumpet   to   shining  sands  on  shores   of  bliss 
eternal, 


Shrine  of  a  "Sphinx  of  Aztlan"        1251 


'« Where  earthly  pride  is  not 
And  all  terrestrial  sorrow  melts  in  hallowed  rays  of  a 

most  Holy  Presence; 

Where  Angels  sing  forever  the  Glory  of  undying  Love, 
There  may  we  meet — 
In  Heaven!" 


126  Talcs  of  Astlan 


AN  UNCANNY  STONE. 

(A  sequel  to  the  last  chapter  of  "Wooed  by  a 
Sphinx  of  Astlan.") 

"Gigantic  shadows,  dancing  in  the  twilight 
Fade  with  the  sun's  last  golden  ray. 
On  quivering  bat-wings,  sad  and  silent, 
Flits  darkness — night  pursuing  day. 
Hark!  as  the  twelfth  hour  sounds  its  knell 
At  midnight,  tolls  a  whimpering  bell 
When  yawning  graves  profane  their  secrecy. 
Ghosts  stalk  in  dreamland  haunting  memory 
And  spectral  visions  of  departed  friends  arise 
Who  freed  of  sin,  that  fetter  of  mortality, 
With  Angels  in  their  kingdom  of  Eternal  Life 
Grace  Heaven's  choir  of  harmony." 

The  third  day  of  July  A.  D.  1907  was  a  gala- 
day  for  the  citizens  of  Prescott,  a  historic  date 
for  Arizona,  as  then  our  governor,  in  behalf  of 
the  territory,  formally  accepted  an  equestrian 
statue  from  its  sculptor. 

This    monument    which    commemorates    our 


A)i  Uncanny  Stone  127 

war  with  Spain  had  been  erected  on  the  public 
plaza  of  Prescott  in  honor  of  "Roosevelt's 
Rough  Riders,"  the  first  regiment  of  United 
States  Volunteer  cavalry. 

A  master-piece  of  modern  art  the  statue 
breathes  life  and  action  in  the  perfection  of  its 
every  detail,  representing  a  Rough  Rider  who  is 
about  to  draw  his  weapon  while  reining  his  terri 
fied  horse  as  it  rears  in  a  last  lunge. 

This  is  indicated  by  the  steed's  gaping  mouth, 
distended  nostrils,  the  bent  knees,  knotted  chords 
and  veins  of  its  neck  and  body. 

The  expression  of  a  noble  beast's  agony  is 
rendered  in  so  life-like  a  manner  that  its  pro 
truding  eyes  seem  to  glaze  into  the  awful  stare  of 
death,  and  instinctively  the  spectator  listens  for 
the  stifled  whimper  and  whinnying  screams  of  a 
wounded  creature. 

Borglum's  splendid  statuary,  this  heroic  cast  of 
bronze  which  so  faithfully  portrays  the  destiny 
of  a  dumb  animal,  man's  most  useful  and  willing 
slave,  always  ready  to  share  its  master's  fate, 
even  unto  death — to  my  mind  is  a  most  eloquent, 
if  silent,  argument  against  all  warfare. 

But  the  glory  of  the  monument  is  its  pedestal. 

A  solid  stone,  a  bed-rock  from  the  cradle  of 
the  Idol-mountain  it  was  contributed  by  nature 


128  Talcs  of  Aztlan 

to  the  memory  of  one  of  its  noblemen,  "Captain 
William  Owen  O'Neill,"  who  crowned  his  life 
with  immortality,  suffering  a  soldier's  death. 

During  the  storming  of  San  Juan  Hill  to  anx 
ious  friends  imploring  him  not  recklessly  to  ex 
pose  himself,  with  smiling  lips  he  gave  this 
message  of  death's  Angel,  that  mysterious  oracle 
of  a  Sphinx  which  from  the  gaze  of  mortals 
veils  their  ordained  doom: 

"Comrades,  sergeant!  I  thank  you  for  your 
kindly  warning — fear  not  for  me,  the  Spanish 
bullet  that  could  kill  me  is  not  molded!" — when 
instantly  he  fell  struck  dead — not  by  a  "Spanish" 
bullet — "no!"  but  by  the  bullet  fired  from  a 
Mauser  rifle,  "not  made  in  Spain." 

Not  an  ordinary  stone  this  Arizona  granite 
rock  is  entitled  to  highest  honors  among  the 
stones  of  the  earth. 

By  none  outclassed  in  witchery  it  ranks  equally 
in  fame  with  the  Blarneystone  of  Ireland;  old 
Plymouth  Rock  does  not  compare  with  it,  for 
that  derives  its  prestige  only  from  "Mayflower 
pilgrims"  who  accidentally  landing  at  its  base 
merely  stepped  over  it. 

Proudly  our  Arizona  stone  bears  a  most  pre 
cious  burden — the  tribute  of  a  people  who  in  ex.- 
alting  patriotism  honor  themselves. 


An  Uncanny  Stone  129 

Originally  an  archaean  sea-bottom  rock  this 
stone  lay  submerged  in  the  ocean  until  during 
the  Jurassic  Period,  under  the  lateral  pressure  of 
a  cooling  earthcrust  the  table-lands  and  moun 
tain-chains  of  Arizona  rose  from  the  seas. 

Then  it  slumbered  through  several  epochs  of 
geology,  representing  many  millions  of  years  in 
the  bosom  of  earth,  the  mother,  until  at  the  be 
ginning  of  the  psychozoic  era,  through  erosion 
or  the  action  of  atmospheric  influences  and  na 
ture's  chemistry  it  came  to  the  surface;  uncov 
ered  and  freed  from  all  superimposed  stratified 
rock. 

It  saw  the  light  of  day  long  before  the  advent 
of  primitive  man;  but  the  giant-flora  and  fauna 
of  pre-historic  time  had  developed,  flourished  and 
vanished  while  it  rested  under  ground. 

Contrary  to  the  habit  of  rolling  stones  which 
gather  no  moss,  this  Arizona  stone  accumulated 
much,  for  when  it  had  reached  its  assigned  site 
on  the  plaza  of  Prescott  it  had  become  a  very 
valuable,  expensive  rock. 

When  first  I  saw  it,  this  fearful  Aztec  jug 
gernaut  was  within  a  half  mile  of  its  destination. 

Slowly  it  crawled  along,  threatening  destruc 
tion  to  everything  in  its  path,  and  in  the  course 


130  Talcs  of  Aztlan 

of  a  week  had  arrived  at  the  Granite-creek 
bridge. 

It  moved  by  main  strength  and  brute  force, 
employing  men  and  horses  after  the  custom  of 
the  ancients  when  more  than  thirty-seven  hun 
dred  years  ago  King  Menes,  son  of  Cham 
reigned  in  Egypt,  who  albeit  surnamed  Mizraim 
the  Laggard,  yet  was  the  first  king  of  the  first 
dynasty  of  the  children  of  the  sun. 

When  I  saw  the  direction  from  whence  the 
stone  had  come  I  feared  that  disaster  would 
overwhelm  our  town  and  unfortunately  was  I 
not  mistaken. 

At  the  bridge  the  stone  gave  the  first  manifes 
tation  of  its  unholy  heathen  power  when  it 
balked,  defying  modern  civilization  and  through 
sorcery  or  in  other  unhallowed  ways  contrived 
to  interfere  with  the  public  electric  traction  ser 
vice,  paralyzing  the  traffic  so  effectively  that 
every  street  car  in  the  town  was  stopped;  not 
merely  a  few  hours,  but  for  days. 

Like  that  colossus  of  strength  and  wisdom,  the 
elephant  which  refuses  to  pass  over  a  bridge  until 
satisfied  that  this  will  uphold  its  weight,  the  cun 
ning  stone  did  not  budge  another  inch  until  the 
bridge  had  been  braced  with  many  timbers. 

As  foreseen  by  me  this  uncanny  rock  was  sent 


An  Uncanny  Stone  131 

by  the  Idol  of  the  mountain,  the  "Sphinx  of 
Aztlan,"  to  cast  a  hoodoo,  an  evil  spell  over  the 
monument. 

It  caused  dissension  among  the  people  and 
confused  their  minds  into  rendering  abnormal 
criticisms,  making  them  indulge  in  eccentric  va 
garies  and  speculations  on  the  artistic  and  in 
trinsic  value  of  the  monument.  Some  persons 
guessed  at  the  value  of  the  metal  contained  in 
the  statue,  while  others  reckoned  the  cost  of  the 
horse  or  that  of  the  rider's  accoutrements. 

However,  of  thousands  of  admiring  and  de 
lighted  spectators  none  shared  an  exactly  like 
opinion  except  in  this,  that  the  statue  bore  no 
individual  resemblance;  but  that  also  was  con 
tradicted  by  a  young  lady  whom  I  heard  ex 
claim:  "Girls,  surely  that  looks  like  Buckie 
O'Neill,  but  in  love  and  war  men  are  not  them 
selves!"  "How  do  I  know?  Oh,  mamma  said 
so!" 

During  the  ceremony  of  unveiling  the  monu 
ment  a  dark,  ragged  storm  cloud  hung  over  the 
Aztec  mountain,  fast  overcasting  the  sky.  Thou 
sands  of  people  strained  their  eyes  and  held  their 
breath  in  the  glad  anticipation  of  seeing  the 
features  of  their  lamented  friend,  Prescott's  hon 
ored  mayor,  immortalized  in  bronze.  When 


132  Talcs  of  Aztlan 

after  moments  of  anxious  suspense  the  veil  which 
draped  the  statue  parted  and  fell  to  earth,  the 
sun's  rays  pierced  the  clouds,  while  deafening 
cheers  rent  the  air.  I  thought  I  heard  a  weird, 
faint  cry,  an  echo  from  the  past — but  cannons 
boomed,  drums  crashed  as  a  military  band  ren 
dered  its  patriotic  airs. 

And  we  saw — not  the  familiar,  fine  features  of 
our  soldier  hero,  so  strikingly  portrayed  by  a 
famed  artist  and  molded  into  exact,  lifelike  re 
semblance,  but  instead  we  beheld  an  unknown 
visage — a  type,  merely  the  semblance  of  a 
"Rough  Rider,"  its  rigid  gaze  riveted  on  the 
Idol-mountain,  forever  enthralled  by  the  Sphinx. 

In  nineteen  hundred  seven,  on  the  third  day  of 

July 
With  shining  mien  and  flaming  sword  earthward 

St.  Michael  came 

To  save — ever  auspicious  be  the  blessed  day — 

From  blighting  heathen  guile  a  Christian  hero's 
fame 

The  while,  breathless  with  awe,  solemn  the  peo 
ple  gazed 

And  rhetoric's  inspired  flame  on  Aztlan's  altar 
blazed. 

Adore  the  Saints,  behold  a  miracle  Divine ! 


An  Uncanny  Stone  133 

Hallowed,  our  Saviour,  be  Thy  Name 
And  Heaven's  glory  thine! 

Of  idol-worship  now  has  vanished  every  trace 
In  deepest  crevice  and  highest  place 
On  mesa,  butte  and  mountain-face; 
From  the  Grand  Canyon's  somber  shade 
The  sun-scorched  desert,  the  dripping  glade 
And  sunken  crater  of  Stoneman's  Lake. 
The  "Casa  Grande,"  a  home  of  ancient  race — 
A  ruin  now — is  haunted  by  Montezuma's  wraith. 
In  Monteizuma's  castle,  crumbling  from  roof  to 

base 
The  winds  and  rain  of  heaven  ghosts  of  the  past 

now  chase. 

Where  erstwhile  the  Great  Spirit's  children 
dwelt 

Forever  hushed  is  the  papoose's  wail,  and  stilled 
the  squaw's  low-crooning  lilt. 

No  longer  shimmers  starlight  from  eyes  of  sav 
age  maids 

Worshippers  of  the  fire  and  sun,  poor  dwellers 
of  the  caves — 

The  sisters  of  the  deer  and  lo,  shy  startled  fawns 
of  Aztec  race 

Or  coy  ancestral  dams  of  moon-eyed  Toltec  doe. 


134  Tales  of  Act  I  an 

Now  Verde  witches  bathe  in  Montezuma's  well 
And  over  its  crystal  waters  the  touristes  cast  their 
spell. 

Rejoice!  to  Arizona  has  the  Saviour  vouchsafed 
His  Grace 

For  our  Salvation  Army  lass  teaches  true  Gos 
pel  faith: 

"Be  saved  this  night,  poor  sinner,  repent,  the 
hour  is  late ! 

Salvation  is  in  store  for  thee,  brother  do  not  de 
lay 

As  fleeting  time  and  sudden  death  for  no  man 
ever  wait!" 

"Praise  God!"  the  lassie's  war-cry  is,  the  key 
note  of  her  song. 

To  the  tune  of  "Annie  Roonie"  and  kindred  fer 
vid  lay 

With  mandolin  and  banjo,  marching  in  bold 
array 

The  devil's  strongholds  storming,  battling  to  vic 
tory — 

With  banners  flying,  the  tambourine  and  drum 

Forever  has  she  silenced  the  shaman's  vile  tom 
tom. 

All  Fetish  Spirit-medicine  she  has  tabooed,  ban 
ished  away 


An  Uncanny  Stone  1^5 

Except  bourbon  and  rye,  sour-mash,  hand- made 
And  copper-distilled,  licensed,  taxed  and  gauged, 
Then  stored  in  bond  to  ripen,  mellow,  age. 
•God  bless  the  Army,  rank  and  file  who  fight  our 

souls  to  save! 

Modern  disciples  of  the  Son  of  Man,  true  fol 
lowers  of  Christ, 

They  work  by  day,  then  preach  and  pray  and 
pound  their  drum  at  night. 

I/ENVOY. 

Farewell,  this  ends  my  rhyming,  submitted  at  its 

worth. 
Lest   I   forget — pride   goes  before  the   fall,   on 

earth 
And  exceeding  fine  if  slowly,  grind  the  mills  of 

angry  gods — 
The   muses'   steed,   a  versifying  bronco   had   I 

caught 

And  recklessly  I  rode;  but  fast  as  thought 
Fate  overtook  me  when  Pegasus  bucked  me  off. 
Sorely  distressed  I  hear  a  satyr's  mocking  laugh 
As  on  my  laurels  resting,  on  my  seat  of  honor 

cast 
And  thanking  you  for  kind  attention  now  your 

indulgent  censure  ask. 


136  Talcs  of  Aztlan 


THE  BIRTH  OF  ARIZONA. 

(AN  ALLEGORICAL  TALE.) 

On  the  summit  of  a  mountain  I  staked  my 
claim;  in  the  shade  of  a  balsam-spruce  I  built 
my  hut. 

When  the  south  wind  that  rises  on  the  desert 
climbs  to  the  mountain's  ridge  and  rustling 
among  silvery  needles,  rattles  the  cones  on 
boughs  and  twigs — the  tree-giant  whispers  with 
resinous  breath,  bemoaning  the  fate  of  a  pre 
historic  civilization,  and  lisps  of  the  mys 
tery  and  romance  of  a  humanity  long  extinct, 
mourning  for  races  forgotten  and  vanished. 

Alone — unrivaled  in  her  weird,  wild  grandeur 
stands  Arizona  where  spiry  rock-ribbed  giants 
stab  an  emerald,  opal-tinted  sky,  and  terraced 
mesas  of  wondrous  amber  hue  form  natural  stair 
ways,  that  grandly  wrought  were  carved  step 
after  step,  through  successive  epochs  of  erosion, 
affording  thus  an  easy  ascent  to  the  rugged  pro 
file  of  this  land  of  the  Western  Hemisphere.  All 


The  Birth  of  Arizona  137 

this  is  of  historic  record  in  stony  cypher  of 
geology  indelibly  engraved  by  time  on  the  rocky 
walls  of  deepest  canyons,  as  traceable  from  the 
primordial  archaean  to  our  present  era,  the  age 
of  man. 

In  tremor-spasms  of  terrestrial  creation, 
'midst  chaotic  fiery  turmoil  of  volcanos,  out  of 
the  depth  of  globe-encircling  waters,  from  the 
womb  of  Universe — Eternity — came  the  Al 
mighty  Word,  and  then  was  born  fair  Arizona. 

Fraught  with  golden  prophecy  was  her  horo 
scope,  cast  by  fate's  oracle  for  her  birthday  fell 
under  the  sign  of  the  scorpion  when  in  the  path 
of  planets  Venus  contended  with  the  Earth  for 
first  place  of  ascendency  to  the  second  house  of 
the  heavens. 

High  above  the  tidal  wave  rose  Arizona,  as 
fleecy  clouds  float  in  the  rays  of  Apollo's  sun- 
torch  when  at  eventide  his  flaming  chariot  plunges 
into  unfathoined  depths  of  the  Pacific  Ocean. 

With  her  first  breath  this  daughter  of  Colum 
bia,  born  of  gods,  clamored  for  aid.  Neptune 
was  first  among  the  planets  to  heed  the  plaintive 
cry  and  held  her  to  his  breast,  with  fond  caresses. 

The  grandest  canyon  on  the  face  of  earth 
with  flowing  streams  and  limpid  crystals  he  gave 
her  as  a  birthday  present. 


138  Talcs  of  Aztlan 

These  crystals  rare  are  famed  as  Arizona  dia 
monds  now. 

Bright,  lovely  Venus,  the  sister  of  Earth,  a 
shining  planet,  gave  the  ruby-red  garnet,  her 
pledge  of  love  and  Arizona  hid  it  in  her  bosom. 
There  shall  you  find  it,  if  worthy  so  you  be,  in 
the  hearts  of  happy  maidens. 

Saturn  gave  her  his  ring  of  amethysts  and 
Uranus  the  greenish  malachite,  of  buoyant  hope 
the  emblem.  This,  in  time,  was  changed  to  cop 
per,  the  king  of  all  commercial  metals. 

Mars  gave  the  bloodstone.  From  it  came  sol 
diers  bold,  heroes  who  fought  Apaches  and  the 
Spaniard. 

The  winged  Mercury  on  passing  tossed  her 
two  stones,  most  precious;  the  lodestone  and  a 
Blackstone.  The  lodestone  was  a  stone  of  grit. 
When  Arizona  placed  it  in  her  crib  thence  came 
the  lucky  prospector  who  sinks  his  shafts 
through  earth  and  rock  in  search  of  mineral 
treasure. 

Then  opened  she  the  Blackstone  and  lo,  from 
it  arose  the  men  of  eloquence  who  aided  by  re 
tainers  fight  keenly  in  continued  terms  for  or 
der,  law  and  justice  with  weapons  that  are 
mightier  than  the  sword  which  giveth  glory, 


The  Birth  of  Arizona  139 

eternal  rest  and  immortality  to  heroes  only  whom 
it  smiteth. 

Behold,  a  shadow  now  fell  on  the  Earth  and 
as  a  serpent  coils  and  creeping  stretches  forth 
its  slimy  length,  it  came  apace. 

Foreboding  evil  it  announced  the  knight-er 
rant  of  never-ending  space,  a  wicked  comet.  To 
Arizona  gave  he  playthings  many:  the  rattle 
snake,  hairy  tarantelas  and  stinging  scorpions, 
horned  toads  and  centipedes,  a  scented  hydro 
phobia-cat,  the  Gila  monster,  a  Mexican  and  the 
Apache ;  also  a  thorny  cactus  plant. 

Anon  the  tricky  Hassayampa  rose  from  his 
source.  On  mischief  bent  he  overflowed  his  bed, 
teasing  the  infant  Arizona.  He  worried  her, 
poor  dearie — dear  till  she  shed  tears  and  nature 
adding  to  the  gush  of  waters  there  flowed  a 
brackish  stream  away;  now  named  Saltriver  and 
on  its  banks  nested  the  Phoenix. 

From  Elysium  in  his  chariot  descended  then 
the  sungod  to  nurse  his  infant  daughter.  He 
dried  the  Hassayampa's  bed  in  the  hot  desert 
sand  and  where  man-like,  incautiously  he 
scorched  the  hem  of  Arizona's  dress — where  now 
lies  Yuma — there  the  temperature  rose  ten  de 
grees  hotter  than  hades;  but  luckily  since  then 
it  has  cooled  off  as  much. 


140  Tales  of  Aztlan 

The  happy  maiden  smiled  with  joy  as  Apollo 
kissed  her  long  and  often.  He  took  the  tur 
quoise  from  the  skies,  an  emblem  of  unfalter 
ing  faith.  It  and  a  lock  of  shining  hair  he  gave 
her.  That  hid  she  in  her  rocky  bed  where  it  be 
came  gold  of  the  mint;  the  filthy  lucre  of  un- 
worthiness  and  avarice,  a  blessing  when  in 
charity  bestowed;  a  boon  as  the  reward  of  hon 
est  labor! 

With  lengthening  shadows  Luna,  night's  gentle 
goddess  came,  a  full  mile  nearer  to  Arizona 
than  to  other  lands  beaming  her  softest  rays 
over  the  sleeping  child.  Under  the  lunar  kisses 
woke  Arizona  and  stored  the  moonshine  in 
her  gown.  That  nature  has  transformed  to  sil 
ver;  serving  the  poor  man  as  his  needed  coin. 

In  sadness  waned  the  moon,  for  caught  be 
tween  the  horns  of  a  dilemma  she  had  no  wealth 
left  to  endow  the  infant  with.  Intemperate 
habits  had  the  goddess  always,  was  often  full  and 
now  reduced  to  her  last  quarter,  but  that  was 
waning  fast  and  her  man's  shadow  also  grow 
ing  less.  Her  semi-transparent  stone,  alas!  had 
given  she  long  since  to  California,  but  this 
proudest  of  all  daughters  of  the  seas  did  not 
appreciate  the  kindly  gift.  She  cast  it  on  the 
white  sands  of  her  beaches  where  it  is  gathered 


The  Birth  of  Arizona  141 

by  the  thankful  tourist  who  shouts  exultantly, 
delighted  with  his  find: 

The  moonstone,  climate,  atmosphere, 
The  only  things  free-gratis  here — 

Eureka ! 
I  have  found! 


142  Tales  of  Aztlan 


A  ROYAL  FIASCO. 
(HISTORICAL  ANECDOTES.) 

A  village  on  the  coast  of  northern  Germany, 
where  the  Elbe  flows  into  the  North  Sea,  was 
my  birthplace,  its  parsonage,  my  childhood's 
home. 

Two  great  earth-dikes  which  sheltered  our 
village  from  fierce  southwesterly  gales  were  the 
only  barrier  standing  between  untold  thousands 
of  lives  and  watery  graves,  for  the  coasts  of  Hol 
land  and  northern  Germany  are  below  the  level  of 
high  tides. 

It  is  known  that  through  inundations  caused 
by  breaks  in  these  levees,  occurring  as  late  as  the 
tenth  and  eleventh  centuries  of  our  era  more  than 
three  hundred  thousand  persons  with  all  their  do 
mestic  cattle  were  drowned  over  night. 

These  dikes  which  extend  for  many  miles  along 
the  banks  of  the  river  were  erected  by  the  sys 
tematic  herculean  toil  of  generations  of  our  an 
cestors. 


A  Royal  Fiasco  143 

According  to  a  popular  tradition  it  was  Rolof , 
the  dwarf,  a  thrall  of  Vulcan,  who  taught  my 
forefathers  the  art  of  forging  tools  from  iron 
ore,  enabling  them  to  battle  successfully  against 
the  might  of  Neptune. 

They  blunted  the  angry  sea-god's  trident  with 
their  plows  and  shovels  and  repulsed  him  at  the 
very  threshold  of  his  element,  stemming  the  in 
roads  of  hungry  seas  with  their  stupendous 
handiwork  which  still  stands  intact,  an  imposing 
monument  to  the  memory  of  my  forebears,  be 
ing  their  children's  children's  most  precious  in 
heritance. 

On  the  soil  which  my  ancestors  reclaimed  from 
the  sea  they  founded  their  homes  and  sowed 
grasses  and  cereals. 

But  ere  long  a  dire  calamity  came  over  the 
land,  for  at  the  command  of  the  revengeful  Nep 
tune  his  mermaids  spewed  sea-foam  into  the 
river's  fresh  water  addling  it  with  their  fish-tails 
into  a  nasty  brine. 

Luckily  the  good  dwarf  who  in  his  youth  had 
served  his  term  of  apprenticeship  at  the  court  of 
King  Gambrinus  and  was  therefore  master  of  the 
noble  craft  of  brewing  kindly  taught  my  fore 
fathers  to  brew  a  foaming  draught  from  the 


144  Tales  of  Azthm 

malt  of  barleycorn,  which  thereafter  they  drank 
instead  of  water. 

And  now  all  seafaring  men  who  navigate  the 
river  Elbe  between  Cuxhaven  and  Hamburg  are 
still  troubled  with  a  tremendous  thirst  which 
nothing  but  foaming  lager  beer  may  quench. 

The  founding  of  the  village's  church  dates 
from  the  conversion  of  Saxon  tribes  who  inhab 
ited  that  country.  The  chapel's  original  walls 
were  built  of  rock,  but  its  newer  part  was  con 
structed  of  brick-work  during  the  fourteenth 
century. 

Our  domicile,  the  parsonage,  although  not 
quite  as  ancient,  was  a  very  picturesque  ruin 
with  its  moss-covered  roof  of  thatched  straw,  un 
der  which  a  flock  of  sparrows  made  their  homes ; 
but  a  modern  building,  how  prosaic-looking  it 
might  be,  or  deficient  in  uniqueness  and  the 
charm  of  its  surroundings,  would  undeniably 
have  made  a  better,  more  sanitary  and  comfort 
able  residence. 

Mother,  at  least,  thought  this  when  father 
landed  her,  his  blushing  bride  at  the  ancient  par 
sonage  in  a  rain  storm  which  compelled  them  to 
retire  for  the  night  under  the  shelter  of  an  um 
brella;  and  thus  the  honeymoon  of  their  married 
life  waxed  with  uncommon  hardship. 


A  Royal  Fiasco  145 

Later  the  old  leaky  house  received  a  tile  roof, 
part  of  it  was  removed  and  with  it  the  room 
where  first  I  saw  the  light  of  day. 

That  was  a  cold  day  for  father  indeed,  as  there 
was  another  mouth  to  be  fed  then,  a  very  seri 
ous  problem  for  a  poor  parson  to  solve. 

When  my  aunt  remarked  that  I  looked  like  a 
"monk"  father  eyed  me  thoughtfully,  saying: 
"Perhaps  there  is  something  to  Darwin's  theory 
after  all,"  but  mother  took  me  to  her  arms,  with 
ering  her  sister  with  scornful  glances  of  her 
flashing  eyes. 

"Certainly  does  he  look  like  a  monk,  the  poor 
little  tiddledee-diddy  darling,"  she  said;  "what 
else  would  you  expect  of  him,  being  the  son  of 
a  preacher  and  a  descendant  of  priests?" 

On  a  certain  fateful  summer  day  when  assem 
bled  at  dinner  we  heard  the  rumble  of  wheels  as 
an  imperial  post-chaise  hove  into  view,  lumbering 
lazily  past  the  parsonage. 

The  postillion's  horn  sounded  a  letter-call  and 
my  sisters  rushed  out,  racing  over  our  lawn  to 
the  gate,  in  order  to  take  the  message.  They  re 
turned  with  a  large  envelope  bearing  great  offi 
cial  seals,  both  girls  struggling  for  its  posses 
sion  and  fighting  like  cats  for  the  privilege  of 


146  Tales  of  Aztlan 

carrying  the  precious  document.  Mother's  face 
was  wreathed  in  smiles  of  ecstacy. 

"Your  salary,  papa,"  she  whispered,  but 
father  was  very  solemn. 

"No,  dear,  it  is  not  due,"  he  answered.  He 
took  the  missive  from  my  sister's  hands  and 
turned  it  over  and  over,  guessing  at  its  contents 
until  mother  who  was  favored  with  more  of  that 
quality  which  is  commonly  called  "presence  of 
mind"  urged  him  to  open  it,  and  see. 

An  ashen  pallor  spread  over  father's  counte 
nance,  the  letter  dropped  from  his  hand  and  he 
would  have  fallen  if  mother  had  not  caught  him 
in  her  arms.  She  grabbed  the  evil  message,  slip 
ping  it  into  the  bosom  of  her  gown,  where  it 
could  do  no  further  harm. 

Then  she  guided  father's  faltering  steps  to 
the  sanctity  of  his  studio,  where  he  wrote  his 
sermons  and  closed  the  door. 

My  sisters  availed  themselves  of  the  oppor 
tunity  to  make  a  raid  on  mother's  pantry,  but  I, 
poor  little  innocent,  waited  in  the  corridor  for 
mother's  return,  dreading  to  hear  the  worst.  I 
heard  my  dear  father  groan  aloud  and  bemoan 
his  fate  and  listened  to  mother's  soothing  sym 
pathetic  words  as  she  begged  father  to  be  calm 
and  bear  it  like  a  man  and  a  Christian. 


A  Royal  Fiasco  147 

When  at  last  mother  came  out  I  flew  to  her. 
She  took  me  to  her  arms,  kissing  my  tear-stained 
face. 

"Poor  little  boy,"  she  said,  "cheer  up  and  you 
shall  have  a  big  cookie,  don't  you  cry!" 

"Oh,  mamma,"  I  faltered,  "will  papa  die?" 

"No,  sonny,  that  he  won't,"  said  she  with  a 
determined  glint  of  her  eyes  and  a  twitching  of 
the  corners  of  her  mouth,  for  I  won't  let  him ;  but 
he  does  suffer  anguish!" 

"Oh,  tell  me,  mamma,  what  misfortune  has 
befallen  us,"  I  cried. 

"It  is  very  sad,"  said  mother.  "Your  father, 
who  is  the  finest  speaker  in  the  country,  has  been 
commanded  by  a  worshipful  senate  and  most 
honorable  civic  corporation  of  the  Free  City  of 
Hamburg  to  appear  before  the  visiting  king  in 
full  dress,  and  officiate  as  orator  of  the  day  at  a 
reception  to  be  tendered  his  majesty  by  our  city" 
— here  mother  broke  down  completely,  over 
whelmed  by  grief  and  wept  copiously  into  her 
handkerchief. 

"Oh,  oh,"  I  wailed,  "do  say  it,  mamma!" 

"And — and  your  father  has  no  coat!"  she 
sobbed.  "Poor  man,  he  fears  disgrace  and 
dreads  the  loss  of  preferment  and  of  a  royal 
decoration,  perhaps.  He  will  have  to  feign  sick- 


Talcs  of  Aztlan 

ness  as  an  excuse  for  his  absence ;  but  I  hope  he 
realizes  now  how  degraded  and  unhappy  I  must 
feel  with  my  last  year's  gowns  and  made-over 
millinery — and  your  poor  sister's  ancient  bon 
nets,  I  dare  not  look  at  them  any  longer!" 

"But  papa  has  a  coat,"  I  said,  "a  royal  Prince 
Albert!" 

"True,"  answered  mother,  "but  it  has  no  swal 
low's  tails!" 

"A  Prince  Albert  has  no  swallow-tails?"  I 
gasped  wonderingly;  but  it  has  great,  long  tails, 
surely !" 

"Oh,  now  I  see,"  an  idea  flashing  through  my 
mind;  "it  has  cock-tails,  has  it,  mamma,  and  it 
can't  swallow  them,  can  it,  mamma?" 

"Oh  my,  oh  my!"  screamed  mother,  you  are 
the  funniest  little  chap  to  ask  me  questions.  Go, 
ask  pussy!" 

Then  I  went  into  the  back  yard  to  interview 
my  favorite  playmate,  our  big,  black  tomcat,  and 
aroused  him  from  his  cat  nap.  But  he  blinked 
sleepily  only,  saying  nothing. 

However,  speech  was  not  to  be  denied  me  in 
that  manner,   for  I  held  the  combination  which 
unlocks  the  portals  of  silence.     I  gave  the  handle 
a  double  twist  and  he  spat  and  spluttered : 
"Sh— sh— sht— t— t!" 


A  Royal  Fiasco  149 

As  may  be  imagined,  my  father  passed  a  sleep 
less  night  in  the  solitude  of  his  studio.  He 
wrestled  with  a  host  of  demons  and  made  a  good 
fight  of  it ;  for  finally  in  the  small  hours  of  morn 
ing  he  overcame  the  evil  spirit  of  worldly  ambi 
tion  and  with  true  Christian  humility,  his  soul 
purified  by  vanquished  temptation,  resigned  him 
self  unreservedly,  good  man  that  he  was,  to  the 
mandate  of  a  cruel  fate.  He  began  to  write  his 
sermon  for  the  Sabbath,  and  being  spiritually 
chastened  and  battle-sore,  naturally  his  thoughts 
dwelt  on  melancholy  topics.  Therefore,  he  took 
the  text  of  his  sermon  from  the  Lamentations  of 
Jeremiah,  chapter  3,  v.  i : 

"I  am  the  man  that  hath  seen  affliction  by  the 
rod  of  His  wrath." 

It  may  be  stated  here  that  on  the  next  Sabbath, 
from  "firstly"  to  "seventhly"  for  two  long  hours 
father  pondered  over  the  uncertainties  of  earthly 
life,  and  that  on  this  occasion  he  delivered  the 
most  effective  sermon  of  his  pastoral  career. 

When  father  had  written  his  sermon  he  re 
sumed  work  on  an  unfinished  volume  of  histori 
cal  sketches  which  he  prepared  for  future  publi 
cation. 

Meantime  mother,  who  was  busy  with  a  pleas- 
anter  task  was  correspondingly  cheerful.  She 


150  Talcs  of  Aztlan 

altered  father's  "Prince  Albert"  into  a  stately 
full-dress  coat,  ripping  up  its  waist-seams,  and 
pinned  back  the  skirts  of  the  coat  into  the  proper 
claw-hammer  shape. 

Then  she  took  that  other  garment  which  goes 
with  the  long  waistcoat  and  the  full-dress  coat 
of  a  courtier's  suit,  in  hand. 

This  article  had  not  been  mentioned  before  by 
anyone,  as  there  was  a  goodly  supply  of  it  known 
to  be  in  mother's  wardrobe.  Deftly  cutting  the 
lace  away,  a  few  inches  above  the  knees  she 
placed  some  mother-of-pearl  buttons  and  bows  of 
ribbons  and  with  few  stitches  fashioned  a  beauti 
ful  pair  of  courtier's  small  clothes,  or  knicker 
bockers,  for  father's  use. 

Father  had  begun  a  description  of  the  battle 
of  Waterloo,  for  nothing  so  touched  a  respon 
sive  chord  in  his  mind  as  the  recording  of  a  most 
fearful  catastrophe,  the  direst  calamity  known  to 
history,  nor  served  as  well  to  alleviate  by  com 
parison  his  mind's  distress  and  mortification. 

Just  as  he  wrote  the  sentence,  "Alas  for  Na 
poleon,  here  set  his  lucky  star;  not  only  was  his 
misfortune  repeated,  but  also  his  final  downfall 
accomplished  when  Blucher's  tardy  cavalry  ap 
peared  on  the  field,  turning  the  tide  of  battle  in 


A  Royal  Fiasco  151 

favor  of  the  British" — in  came  mother  with  hap 
py,  triumphant  laughter,  unfolding  and  flaunting 
to  the  breeze  the  so  anxiously  wished-for  full- 
dress  suit. 

"Julia,  darling,  you  have  saved  the  day,  oh 
you  are  so  clever,"  shouted  father,  joyfully  em 
bracing  her ;  "but  I  say !"  he  exclaimed  in  startled 
surprise,  where  on  earth  did  you  get  this — er — 
trousseau?  Do  you  really  think  I  shall  need 
those?" 

"Yes,  indeed  you  shall,  dearest,  when  you  are 
going  to  court,"  replied  mother.  "Here  you 
have  everything  needed  except  the  silken  hose 
which  you  must  buy." 

"But  you  have  a  plenty  of  long-limbed  stock 
ings,"  said  father,  wrinkling  his  brow. 

"My  good  man,  look  here  now!"  answered 
mother,  bristling,  "well  enough  you  know  that 
all  my  stockings  are  very  old  and  holey !" 

"Oh,  darn  them!"  growled  father  testily. 

"Wilhelm,  do  you  wish  the  king  to  see  my 
stockings  then?"  cried  mamma,  angrily. 

"But,  my  dear,  you  know  that  he  can't  see,  as 
he  is  stone-blind,"  said  father. 

"So  he  is,  Wilhelm,  and  for  that  very  reason 
he  could  not  find  the  throne  of  England,"  snapped 
mother,  "but  never  was  he  blind  as  you  to  his 


'I52  Talcs  of  Action 

queenly  wife's  unfashionable  appearance,  nor 
was  he  ever  deaf  to  her  demands  for  something 
decent  to  wear!" 

And  mother,  as  always  when  it  came  to  ulti 
mate  extremes,  finally  gained  her  point,  for 
father  loved  her  dearly  and  dared  not  deny  her. 

On  the  following  day  arrived  the  king,  for 
whose  reception  our  township  had  made  grand 
preparations.  Festoons  of  evergreen  decorated 
the  roadway  from  the  parsonage  to  the  opposite 
house,  and  mother  and  my  sisters  were  stationed 
at  our  gate  with  an  abundance  of  roses  to  strew 
in  the  king's  path. 

From  the  steeple  pealed  the  chimes,  herald 
ing  his  majesty's  arrival.  He  traveled  in  an 
open  landau,  which  was  drawn  by  six  milk-white 
Arabian  steeds  and  surrounded  by  a  select  escort 
of  young  men  who  were  his  subjects  and  served 
as  his  guard  of  honor. 

They  wore  scarfs  of  the  royal  colors  over 
breasts  and  shoulders. 

A  courtier  sat  on  either  side  of  the  king  for 
the  purpose  of  advising  him  and  to  direct  his 
movements. 

Poor  man,  he  turned  his  sightless  white  eyes 
on  us,  bowing  to  the  ladies  in  acknowledgment  of 
their  curtesies  and  roses. 


A  Royal  Fiasco  153 

This  king  was  very  unlike  his  royal  name 
sake  predecessors,  as  he  was  pitied  by  everyone 
and  not  envied  or  hated.  I  must  confess  to  having 
been  sorely  disappointed  with  this  sight  of  royal 
ty,  for  I  thought  a  king  must  be  an  extraordinary 
being,  expecting  to  see  a  double-header,  as  kings 
and  queens  are  pictured  on  playing  cards,  the 
kings  holding  scepters  in  their  left  hands  and 
bearing  a  ball  with  their  right,  but  I  saluted  and 
shouted  as  everyone  else  did,  and  when  my  sis 
ters  pelted  the  royal  equipage  with  their  roses  I 
shied  my  cap  at  his  majesty,  at  which  the  people 
who  saw  this  laughed  as  loudly  as  they  dared  in 
the  presence  of  a  king.  I  expected  also  to  see  a 
military  display,  but  there  were  no  soldiers  pres 
ent,  because  the  king  traveled  "incognito,"  which 
means  that  it  was  forbidden  to  reveal  his  royal 
identity.  He  was  supposed  to  be  a  plain  noble 
man  merely,  "Herr  von  Beerstein"  for  instance. 

But  a  king,  who  is  human  after  all,  may  wish 
to  enjoy  himself  as  others  do  and  desire  to  asso 
ciate  occasionally  with  ordinary  people.  So 
"Herr  von  Beerstein"  goes  to  a  beer  garden  in 
quest  of  a  pleasing  companion  who  is  readily 
found,  for  he  has  money  to  burn  and  invests  it 
freely. 

An  obliging  bar-maid  introduces  him  to  her 


154  Talcs  of  Aztlan 

lovely  cousin  and  they  retire  to  a  lonely  seat  in 
the  most  secluded  spot  of  the  garden. 

"Herr  von  Beerstein"  now  places  his  heart  and 
purse  in  the  keeping  of  his  gentle  companion, 
who  calls  directly  for  "zwei  beers." 

Now  follows  a  repetition  of  the  old,  old  legend 
that  yet  is  always  new  and  ever  recurring  in  the 
romance  of  mutual  love  on  sight,  two  hearts  beat 
ing  as  one  and  in  the  love  that  laughs  at  lock 
smiths,  but  as  the  course  of  true  love  seldom  runs 
smooth,  now  with  the  maiden's  oft  repeated  calls 
for  "lager"  "Herr  von  Beerstein"  grows  by 
stages  sentimental,  incautious  and  then  so  reck 
less  that  "presto!"  before  he  is  aware  of  any  dan 
ger  to  himself  he  has  stopped  Cupid's  fatal  dart 
with  his  royal  personal  circumference.  Mad 
dened  with  pain  he  exhibits  symptoms  of  a  most 
violent  passion  and  becomes  very  aggressive. 
But  the  cunning  maid  appeals  to  the  protecting 
presence  of  Fritz,  the  waiter,  with  other  calls  for 
beer,  whispering  in  the  ear  of  her  love-lorn 
swain:  "Nine,  mine  lieber  Herr  von  Beerstein, 
ven  you  has  married  me  once  alretty,  nicht  wahr? 
Ach  vas,  den  shall  you  kiss  me  yet  some  more, 
yaw!" 

Thus  she  tantalizes  the  poor  man  until  he  be 
comes  desperate  under  the  strain  of  an  unrequited 


A  Royal  Fiasco  155 

love  and  as  a  last  resort  he  places  his  hand  over 
his  heart,  bares  the  bosom  of  his  shirt  and  ex 
poses  the  insignia  of  royalty,  flashing  the  sover 
eign's  star  before  her  eyes. 

Humbly,  overcome  with  shame  and  remorse  at 
the  thought  of  having  trifled  with  her  king's 
affections,  and  prompted  by  her  pitiful  exag 
gerated  notion  of  loyalty  the  poor  thing  kneels 
before  his  majesty,  craving  his  pardon. 

With  royal  hands  the  king  uplifts  her,  gra 
ciously  kissing  her  rosebud  mouth  and  when  she 
says :  "Your  majesty's  slightest  wish  is  a  com 
mand  to  me,  your  servant!"  and  is  about  to  sur 
render  her  loveliness  to  Cupid's  forces  and  tem 
porarily  lose  her  heart,  but  her  soul  forever — in 
the  very  nick  of  time  comes  her  guardian-angel 
to  the  rescue. 

When  she,  poor  little  gray  dove,  lies  trembling 
in  the  royal  falcon's  talons  a  head  rises  up  and 
peeps  over  the  fence,  for  the  royal  star  has  been 
seen  through  a  crack  between  the  boards,  its 
knowing,  sly  grin  passing  into  the  lusty  shout: 

"Heil  dem  koenig,  hoch,  hoch !" 

An  excited  crowd  rushes  from  all  directions, 
cheering :  "Ein,  zwei,  drei,  hurrah !"  while  a 
constable  places  the  damsel  under  arrest,  charg 
ing  her  with  lese  majeste.  When,  however,  his 


156  Talcs  of  Aztlan 

majesty  intercedes  most  graciously  the  young 
lady  is  promptly  released,  and  restored  to  free 
dom. 

But  the  constable's  fee  that  she  must  pay — no 
earthly  power,  not  even  a  king  can  save  her  from 
it,  for  that  is  a  "trinkgeld"  and  she  pays  it  from 
the  royal  purse. 

On  the  evening  of  the  king's  arrival  I  accom 
panied  my  father  to  the  castle  where  the  recep 
tion  royal  took  place.  There  were  no  ladies 
present  on  this  occasion.  The  king  was,  as  has 
been  said,  totally  blind,  but  indulged  in  the  curi 
ous  habit  of  feigning  to  have  an  unimpaired  eye 
sight  and  pretended  to  admire  scenic  objects 
which  had  been  pointed  out  to  him  beforehand, 
as  though  he  really  saw  them,  carrying  out  this 
illusion  to  the  extent  of  ridiculousness.  It  is 
said  that  at  a  hunt-meet  a  courtier  incurred  his 
royal  displeasure  through  these  incautious  words : 
"Sire,  you  shot  this  hare  from  a  next  to  impossi 
ble  distance,  condescend  to  feel  how  fat  it  is !" 

As  the  poor  man  failed  to  say  "See  how  fat," 
he  fell  promptly  into  disfavor,  which  is  equival 
ent  to  being  blacklisted  in  our  country. 

The  king's  general  behaviour  suggests  that  he 
deemed  his  blindness  not  merely  to  be  a  most  re- 


A  Royal  Fiasco  157 

grettable  misfortune,  but  that  he  regarded  it  as  a 
deserved  culpable  affliction. 

When  a  small  boy  I  was  told  that  he  lost  his 
eyesight  through  an  act  of  charity.  He  drew  a 
purse  from  his  pocket,  intending  to  give  a  beg 
gar  an  aim  when  his  horse  shied  violently,  caus 
ing  the  steel-beaded  tassels  of  the  purse  to  in 
jure  his  eyes. 

Later,  as  I  grew  older,  I  heard  a  different 
tale: 

The  king  as  a  student,  then  being  crown-prince 
of  the  realm,  found  pleasure  in  "looking  at  the 
wine  which  was  red,  and  at  a  pair  of  eyes  that 
were  blue  and  shone  like  heavenly  stars,  oh  so 
gently  and  tenderly!  But  he  looked,  alas,  once 
too  often — into  eyes  that  blazed  with  lurid  flames 
of  hate  and  fury — the  terrible  eyes  of  the  green- 
eyed  monster.  There  came  a  flash  as  of  light 
ning  with  a  loud  report  and  he  saw  stars  that 
fell  fiercely  fast  until  they  vanished  under  a  cloud 
of  awful  gloom  in  the  hopeless  despair  of  per 
petual  night;  but  the  glorious  luminous  star  of 
day  for  him  shone  not  again,  nevermore,  on 
earth!  To  this  day  I  know  not  which  version 
tells  the  truth. 

The  castle's  grand  hall  was  overflowing  with 
people.  I  followed  in  the  wake  of  father,  who 


158  Talcs  of  Aztlan 

had  fallen  into  line,  advancing  gradually  toward 
the  august  presence  of  a  crowned  king.  Ner 
vously  father  awaited  his  turn  to  bask  for  one 
anxious  moment  in  the  sunshine  of  royal  favor 
and  touch  a  king's  hand. 

I  slipped  away  unperceived  to  the  kitchen, 
knowing  well  the  premises  of  this  fine  old  castle 
which  was  kept  in  good  repair  by  the  city  of 
Hamburg,  its  present  owner.  It  had  been  won  by 
conquest  of  arms  in  1394  A.D.  from  the  noble 
family  "Von  Lappe." 

The  principal  occupation  of  these  knights  was 
the  waylaying  and  robbing  of  merchants;  but 
the  wrecking  of  ships  was  their  favorite,  most 
profitable  pastime. 

The  kitchen  was  in  the  basement  of  the  castle 
and  great  in  size,  its  floor  paved  with  slabs  of 
stone,  the  walls  and  ceilings  were  paneled  in  oak. 
On  one  side  of  the  room  were  stone-hearths  with 
blazing  fires,  over  which  hung  pots  and  brazen 
kettles.  Game  and  meats  broiled  on  spits,  there 
being  no  cook-stoves  in  those  days.  Heavy  doors, 
strapped  with  great  wrought  iron  hinges  and 
studded  with  ornamental  scroll-work  led  into 
pantries  and  cellars. 

The  place  swarmed  with  liveried  servants  and 
cooks;  also  the  king  had  brought  his  "chef  de 


A  Royal  Fiasco  1 59 

cuisine  and  own  butler.  The  latter,  a  lordly  Eng 
lishman,  was  a  grand,  haughty  person  who  su 
perintended  the  extravagant  preparations  for 
the  entertainment  of  royalty. 

A  maid  conducted  me  to  a  corner  where  I  was 
out  of  harm's  way  and  regaled  me  with  delica 
cies  when  the  courses  were  served,  oh  it  was 
fine!  The  chef  prepared  certain  dishes  for  the 
king  and  I  saw  the  butler  taste  of  the  viands  that 
were  placed  on  crown-marked  dishes  of  porce 
lain  and  -gold.  He  also  tasted  the  king's  wine. 

When  at  last  I  grew  sleepy,  kind  maids  ar 
ranged  a  couch  of  snowy  linen  for  me,  and  I 
slept  until  the  banquet  royal  was  over  when  the 
guests  returned  to  their  homes. 

But  me  lord,  the  butler,  eyed  me  with  ques 
tioning  curiosity. 

"Aw  me  lad,  h'and  where  did  your  father  get 
'is  blooming  costume?"  he  asked. 

"Mother  supplied  it,  good  sir,"  I  answered. 

"Hi  say,  me  lad,"  he  laughed,  "your  mother 
h'is  a  grand  lydie,  you  tike  me  word  for  h'it ;  h'in 
h'England  they  would  decorate  that  suit  with  the 
h'order  h'of  the  garter!" 

"Honi  soit,  qui  mal  y  pense !"  I  lisped. 


160  Talcs  of  Aztlan 


A  MAID  OF  YAVAPAL 
,    To  S.  M.  H. 

(AN  IDYUJC  SKETCH.) 

People  from  every  land  sojourn  in  Arizona. 

From  the  Atlantic's  sandy  coasts,  the  icy  shores 
of  crystal  lakes,  from  turbid  miasmatic  swamps — 
east,  north  and  south,  they  come. 

Over  mountain,  canyon  and  gulch  they  roam, 
prospecting  nature's  grandest  wonders. 

But  the  purest  gold  on  Arizona's  literary  field, 
that  was  found  by  the  genius  of  a  lonesome  val 
ley's  queen,  the  song-lark  of  our  "Great  South 
west." 

From  the  sheltering  tree  of  her  ancestral  hall 
shyly  she  fluttered  forth. 

Among  stony  crags  of  the  sierra,  on  fearsome 
dizzy  trails,  in  the  somber  shadows  of  virgin  for 
ests,  in  the  rustling  of  wind-blown  leaves  (the 
seductive  swish  of  elfin  skirts)  she  heard  the 
voices  of  Juno's  sylvan  train.  Enchanted  she 


A  Maid  of  Yavapai  161 

listened  to  the  syren's  call,  and  ere  the  echo  died 
within  her  ear  she  had  devoted  her  talent  to  lit 
erature,  a  priestess  self-ordained  in  Arizona's 
temple  of  the  muses. 

In  the  flight  of  her  poetic  mind  she  met  his 
majesty,  king  of  the  hills,  the  mountain-lion  at 
the  threshold  of  his  lair  and  toyed  with  his  cubs, 
princes  and  heirs  to  freedom. 

She  heard  the  were-wolf  scourge  of  herds, 
fierce  lobos  snarl  in  silent  groves  of  timber  and 
shivered  at  the  coyote's  piercing  yelps  from 
grave  yards  in  the  valleys. 

At  nighttime,  in  her  lonely  camp  the  dread 
tarantela  disturbed  her  rest  and  in  day's  early 
gloam  a  warning  rattle  of  creepy  serpents  sound 
ed  her  reveille : 

"Fair  maid,  awake,  arise  in  haste!  When 
darkness  vanishes  with  dawn,  heed  our  alarm- 
clock  in  the  morn!" 

She  spoke  not  to  the  sullen  bear,  in  cautious 
silence  passed  him  by  and  shunned  the  fetid 
breath  of  monster  lizards  and  venom  stings  of 
centipedes  and  scorpions ;  but  woman — like  she 
feared  the  hydrophobia — skunk  more  for  its 
scent  than  for  its  deadly  poison. 

She  heeded  not  the  half -tamed  Indian  on  the 
trail;  but  the  insolent  leer  of  Sonora's  scum,  the 


1 62  Talcs  of  Azthm 

brutalized  peon,  the  low  caste  chulo  of  Chihua 
hua,  froze  into  the  panic-stare  of  abject  terror 
under  the  straight  glance  of  her  eye.  The  slight 
est  motion  of  her  tender  hand  to  him  augured  a 
sudden  death,  for  she  was  of  Arizona's  daugh 
ters,  invulnerable  in  the  armor  of  their  self- 
reliant  strength,  a  shield  of  lovely  innocence, 
white  as  the  snow  is  driven. 

On  the  Mesa  del  Mogollon,  in  the  darkling 
Coconino  Forest  she  interviewed  the  cowboy,  that 
valiant  belted  knight  of  modern  western  chiv 
alry,  and  in  the  chaparral  she  cheered  the  lone 
some  herder. 

In  the  treasure-vaults  of  earth,  a  thousand  feet 
below  the  surface,  invading  the  domain  of  Plu 
to's  treacherous  gnomes  she  met  the  hardiest  man 
in  Arizona,  the  miner,  who  always  happy  is  and 
full  of  hope. 

Poor  fellows,  they  hobnob  with  death  and  do 
not  mind  it! 

Floods  of  rivers,  cloudbursts  in  narrow 
gorges,  the  lightning  of  the  hills,  blinding  and 
smothering  sandstorms  on  the  desert  detained 
her  not,  for  in  her  chosen  path  not  on  delay  she 
thought. 

By  fragrant  orange  groves  in  the  valley  of 
Saltriver,  past  "lowing  kine  on  pastures  green," 


A  Maid  of  Yavapai  163 

under  the  luring  shade  of  palms,  among  the  vines 
she  passed. 

Winging  her  virgin — flight  to  snowclad  pin 
nacles  of  Parnassus  she  pours  her  jubilant  songs 
of  hope,  faith,  love  into  men's  souls  and  women's 
hearts. 

"May  constant  happiness  attend  thee,  fair  lady, 
our  precious  pearl  in  Arizona's  diadem!" 

Though  time  shall  wreath  thy  raven  tresses 
with  silvery  laurel,  and  with  his  palsied  hand  for 
ever  stay,  in  the  fulfilmnet  of  thy  mortal  des 
tiny,  the  throbbing  of  thy  faithful  heart — 

"Yet  shall  the  genius  of  thy  lyre  with  angel- 
hands  reverberate  the  shining  chords  through 
untold  future  ages  in  heavenly  strains  of  re 
sonance  and  glory,  until  the  solace  of  their 
faintest  echoes  dies  within  the  last  true  heart  in 
Arizona." 


OUR    NEWEST    ISSUES 


By  Alexandre  Erixon. 
The  Vale  of  Shadows  .......................  1.50 


By  Mrs.  Josephine  M.  Clarke. 
The  King  Squirrel  of  Central  Park  (Juvenile) .     .60 


By  William  N.  Freeman. 
St.  Mammon  1.59 


By  Mrs.  I.  Lowenberg. 
The   Irresistible   Current 1.50 


By  M.  Y.  T.  H.  Myth. 

Tales  of  Enchantment i.oo 

A  Tale  Confided  by  the  Woods 75 


By  Ida  Blanche  Wall. 
Comedy  of  Petty  Conflicts 1.25 


By  Elizabeth  Helene  Freston. 

Poems  (portrait)  beautifully  bound i.oo 

Italia's  Fornarina  (leather) 3.00 


Compiled  by  Darwin  W.  Esmond. 
Poetry  of  Childhood,  by  Paul  Warner  Esmond 
(Memorial  Edition)  1.50 


OUR    NEWEST    ISSUES 


By  Wilbert  C.  Blakeman. 
The  Black  Hand 1.50 


By  John  W.  Bennett. 
Roosevelt  and  the  Republic 1.50 


By  Hon.  Joseph  M.  Brown. 

(Governor  of  Georgia.) 
Astyanax — An  Epic  Romance 1.50 


By  John  Tracy  Mygatt. 
What  I  Do  Not  Know  of  Farming 75 


By  Esmee  Walton. 
Aurora  of  Poverty  Hill 1.50 


By  Josephine  Merwin  Cook. 
Bandana  Days 75 


By  Howard  James. 
The  Wraith  of  Knopf  and  Other  Stories i.oo 


By  George  Fuller  Golden. 
My  Lady  Vaudeville  and  Her  White  Rats. . . .  2.00 


By  J.  A.  Salmon- Maclean. 

Leisure  Moments i.oo 

A  Stricken  City 50 


OUR    NEWEST    ISSUES 

5^0)°^€p<V-°P  s$\?s/-££'  8v^?  v0^1  °VlO/°?^l°^o^v   9/°X°yS?°(^0?* 

By  James  A.  Ritchey,  Ph.D. 
Psychology  of  the  Will $1.50 


By  Charles  Hallock,  M.  A. 
Peerless  Alaska  .  .  i.oo 


By  Dwight  Edwards  Marvin. 

Prof.  Slagg  of  London 1.50 

The  Christman  1.50 


By  Caroline  Mays  Brevard. 
Literature  of  the  South 1.50 


By  Susan  Archer  Weiss. 
Home  Life  of  Poe  (sd  ed.) 1.50 


By  Irving  Wilson  Voorhees,  M.D. 
Teachings  of  Thomas  Henry  Huxley  (ad  ed.) .   i.oo 


By  Mrs.  Annie  Riley  Hale. 
Rooseveltian  Fact  and  Fable i.oo 


By  Hon.  D.  W.  Higgins. 
The  Mystic  Spring 1.50 


By  Edith  Nicholl  Ellison. 
The   Burnt-Offering 1.25 


Sam  S.  &  Lee  Shubert 

direct  the  following  theatres  and  theatrical 
attractions  in  America : 


Hippodrome,  Lyric,  Casino, 
Dalys,  Lew  Fields,  Herald 
Square  and  Princess  Thea 
tres,  New  York. 

Garrick  Theatre,  Chicago. 
Lyric  Theatre,  Philadelphia. 
Shubert  Theatre,  Brooklyn. 

Belasco  Theatre,  Washing 
ton. 

Belasco  Theatre,  Pittsburg. 
Shubert  Theatre,  Newark. 
Shubert  Theatre,  Utica. 

Grand  Opera  House,  Syra 
cuse. 

Baker  Theatre,  Rochester. 
Opera  House,  Providence. 

Worcester  Theatre,  Worces 
ter. 

Hyperion  Theatre,  New 
Haven. 

Lyceum  Theatre,  Buffalo. 
Colonial  Theatre,  Cleveland. 
Rand's  Opera  House,  Troy. 
Garrick  Theatre,  St.  Louis. 

Sam  S.  Shubert  Theatre, 
Norfolk,  Va. 

Shubert  Theatre,  Columbus. 
Lyric,  Cincinnati. 


Mary     Anderson     Theatre, 

Louisville. 

New  Theatre,  Richmond, 
Va. 

New  Theatre,  Lexington,  Ky. 

New  Theatre,  Mobile. 

New  Theatre,  Atlanta. 

Shubert  Theatre,  Milwau 
kee. 

Lyric  Theatre,  New  Orleans. 

New  Marlowe  Theatre, 
Chattanooga. 

New  Theatre,  Detroit. 

Grand  Opera  House,  Dav 
enport,  Iowa. 

New  Theatre,  Toronto." 

New  Sothern  Theatre,  Den 
ver. 

Sam  S.  Shubert  Theatre, 
Kansas  City. 

Majestic  Theatre,  Los  An 
geles. 

Belasco  Theatre,  Portland. 
Shubert  Theatre,  Seattle. 

Majestic  Theatre,  San  Fran 
cisco. 

E.  H.  Sothern  &  Julia  Mar 
lowe  in  repertoire. 


Margaret  Anglin  and  Henry 
Miller. 

Virginia  Harned. 

Mary  Mannering  in  "  Glori 
ous  Betsy." 

Mme.  Alia  Nazimova. 

Thos.  W.  Ross  in  "The 
Other  Girl." 

Cecelia  Loftus. 
Clara  Bloodgood. 
Blanche  Ring. 
Alexander  Carr. 
Digby  Bell. 

"The  Girl  Behind  the 
Counter." 

"  The  Light  Eternal.* 
"The  Snow  Man." 

Blanche  Bates  in  "  The  Girl 
from  the  Golden  West." 

Dayid  Warneld  in  "The 
Music  Master." 

"  The  Rose  of  the  Rancho," 
with  Rose  Starr. 

HARRISON    GRAY    FISKE'S 

ATTRACTIONS. 
Mrs.   Fiske  in   "The    New 
York  Idea." 


•  Shore  Acres." 

Louis  Mann  in  "The  White 
Hen." 

"The  Road  to  Yesterday." 

Henry  Woodruff  in  "  Brown 
of  Harvard." 

"The  Secret  Orchard,"  by 
Channing  Pollock. 

De  Wolf  Hopper  in   "  Hap 
py  land." 

Eddie  Foy  in  "  The  Orchid." 

Marguerite  Clark,  in  a  new 
opera. 

"The   Social  Whirl,"  with 
Chas.  J.  Ross. 

James  T.   Powers  in  "The 
Blue  Moon." 

Bertha  Kalich. 
"Leah  Kleschna." 

"The  Man  on  the  Box." 

Cyril  Scott  in  "  The  Prince 
Chap." 

"  Mrs.  Temple's  Telegram." 
"The  Three  of  Us." 


You  cannot  go  wrong  in  selecting  one  of 
these  play-houses  for  an  evening's  entertain 
ment  in  whatever  city  you  may  happen  to  be. 


The  Traveler  and  the  Grapes 


BY 

JOHN     C.     BAIRD 


Handsomely    Bound  and  Illustrated,  $1.50  Postpaid 


The  story  deals  with  a  traveler  and  his  horse  who  have 
set  out  on  a  journey.  They  become  lost  in  a  terrible 
storm,  but  seek  shelter  in  a  hermit' s  cave.  The  hermit 
imparts  a  secret  to  the  traveler  about  a  certain  grape  in 
which  there  was  supposed  to  reside  a  magic  power.  The 
traveler  departs  to  continue  his  journey  but  again  loses 
his  way  and  discovers  the  grape,  which  he  tastes.  He  is 
instantaneously  changed  into  a  king  with  a  large  court 
and  retinue.  He  rules  his  people  m  a  benign  manner 
and  tries  the  plan  of  settling  everything  peacefully  instead 
of  by  war. 

When  he  has  done  all  the  good  he  possibly  can  do  he  is 
offered  a  glass  of  wine  by  a  woman  and,  strange  to  relate, 
upon  drinking  it  he  is  returned  to  his  former  state.  His 
wife,  however,  is  with  him  and  they  decide  to  build  a 
cabin  and  live  a  simple  and  industrious  life. 

The  story  is  allegorical,  proving  that  only  truth  and 
virtue  are  desirable.  The  literary  merit  is  high,  and  the 
novel  has  elicited  most  favorable  notices  from  the  leading 
reviewers. 

Supplied  by  all  dealers  and  department  stores,  by 
author  (Vesper,  Kan. ),  or  direct  from  the  publishers. 


BROADWAY    PUBLISHING     COMPANY 
835    BROADWAY        -       -       NEW    YORK 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  AT  LOS  ANGELES 

THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below 


20m -1,' 42  (8518) 


PS 
3515 


H257t  Tales  of 
Aztlan. 


A     000925132     3 


DEMCO  2MN      — 


PS 

3515 

H257t 


